Lorilei's Art & Life in General

Ky-ote, Ky-ote, how'd ya get to Tennessee?

2011-04-14T08:13:00.000-05:00

My favorite deejay of all time has passed away. Coyote McCloud will be remembered fondly by many. If you never got to hear him, you missed something special.

There are no words. Well, not now. Later.

WhimsicaliTees logo

2011-03-12T16:50:00.000-06:00

Grover and John John

2009-07-12T14:52:00.004-05:00

I haven't seen this in a long time. Classic and adorable.

Chewy, my babies, and my room

2009-07-09T21:43:00.018-05:00

In the old Victorian house where I live, there's a northeast bedroom that used to be my room. From the time I was eleven years old and waiting to enter the seventh grade, through three children and two divorces, from the time I stood only 4'5" tall, until only a few years ago, it was my haven.

First, it was painted blue -- my choice because blue was my sister's favorite color, and it was my way of sharing it with her. Eventually, I went with green, my own favorite color. Then, a few years ago, I relinquished the room. I don't know why. I moved into the slightly smaller southeastern room next to it. We had painted it an odd mauvish pink to match a bedspread and sheet set I had gotten for my daughter Cathie, who actually ending up living with her dad instead. But that room was a catch-all for stuff that didn't have a home downstairs, as well as a place for my first computer. One summer, while I was still working at WKU Campus Child Care, I slept in there a lot. I think the sounds of the crickets at night and the pool filter outside through the open windows was soothing to me. I was writing a lot at the time. Are you surprised that I was writing the great American novel? I'd been working on it since the age of thirteen.

But I think the most breathtaking thing about the pink room was the sunrise. When daylight hit those pink walls, the room was aglow. It was magic. In a house with 11- and 12-foot ceilings and several north-facing windows, it was filled with light. It was amazing.

Maybe that's why I wanted to be in there. There are other reasons which I frequently ponder, but no one can tell me if my answers are correct. I do not know.

When Cathie and E.J. moved back here, they moved into the green room. The green room is pretty cool, but it is filled with boxes, old clothes, books, video tapes, old albums, and who knows what else. It is like an attic, only worse. I think my mother's pack rat tendencies have been contagious. Well, that and the fact that any time there wasn't room for something downstairs, it usually ended up up here.

Things are a bit rough for us, currently. Cathie, of course, lost her job. Actually, she gave up her career. She has had a hard time both emotionally and financially since then. My hours at the track were cut. Rumors are that after live races this September, they'll be closing us down, and I'll have no job. Paul was laid off, so he has no job. He moved back to the house, too, until he can figure out what to do and where to go from here.

So the house has seen better days. It was built about 1868, remodeled in the late 1960s, and has seen tough times. Who would know that better than Cathie's ex-husband, who used to pretend to be interested in helping do repairs and make improvements? While they were still married, after making a show of caring, he privately informed Cathie that he thought she should just give up and let it crumble around our ears.

A couple of weeks ago, Cathie was suffering from a really persistent case of poison oak. The house became infested with fleas. My mother, who is 86 years old, thought the dogs should be indoors at all times, and all of us had trouble convincing her otherwise. We finally put Dusty, Winky (Bullwinkle) and Chewy outside, along with the cats. They seemed happy to be in our yard for the most part. Then we tried to bomb the fleas. I've never seen such a bad infestation. I couldn't sleep at night. The chemicals in the flea spray were making me sick. Cathie was spending the night at either my brother's or her aunt's quite a lot. My mom spent the night at my older brother's house in Portland, though she hates being away from home.

During this time, E.J. had vaccinations, and he felt ill. He stayed home from his new day care center because he was running some fever. I was in my mom's room, trying to get him to take a nap, when the front doorbell rang. It was someone from social services. She couldn't tell us that Ian called them, but we knew by something she said about Paul's former roommate being a caregiver to E.J. Of course, that situation had been very brief, but Ian knew about it. He doesn't want the baby, but he wants to cause Cathie as much trouble and pain as he can. The truth is that he is over $1,000 behind in child support to both Cathie and Amanda, and he knows he's going to be arrested. He thinks as long as he is attacking them in some way, he can frighten them into submission.

The long and short of that visit was that the social services lady said Cathie and E.J. must move out, and that we could not provide his care in the house while she was working. My mother was stunned by the news. I was not surprised, but I wasn't happy, either. I had become so accustomed to my little cutie coming to my room to watch his favorite movie with me, Disney/Pixar's "Cars." We had been trying to teach him my nickname, but his own name for me sounded like "Meme." Even though they didn't take my daughter's son away, I felt as though my heart had been torn from me.

Cathie and E.J. went to stay at her father's house. Her stepmom, naturally, had to tell her that she told her so. Eve came home to visit, and she and they stayed at a friend's house for a couple of days. In the meantime, Cathie hunted for an apartment she could afford. Eventually, she found a little rental house not far from my brother's, only a few blocks from us. She's in the process of getting things cleaned out and moving their things in. She will be splitting the rent and the space with a friend. It's a little house, but it has nice rooms and plenty of potential.

Since the dogs have now been pretty much de-fleaed (is that a word?), Cathie was going to request that her landlord let her take Chewy, her chocolate Cocker Spaniel, to live at the new house. I knew he probably wouldn't care for the idea, and I reminded her that Chewy would be lonely when no one was home. She relented, commenting to her landlord that I had become very fond of Chewy.

Today -- well, it's early AM on Friday, as I finish writing this, so that's yesterday -- I was working on my shops, twittering, modding the CP board. Chewy had been making little worried noises, over on the bed Cathie had temporarily left here, on the other side of my monitor. Those flea allergies -- even one bite could cause grief. I decided I needed to give her another bath soon, although she looked better than she had in months. Cathie had clipped her shaggy hair and given her a bath a week or so before.

"Chewy's a good baby," I said softly, and she wagged her stumpy spaniel tail at the sound of my voice. Chewy has been developing cataracts, something I hadn't expected for her age. She is the fourth cocker we have owned -- no, the fifth, since we owned one when I was a baby -- but this was my first encounter with cataracts in my dogs.

About 3:30, I heard Cathie's voice calling upstairs to me, with a note of alarm in her voice.
"Mom!"

I responded, but I went to the stairway, knowing she wouldn't hear me otherwise. Sometimes I think my voice is "invisible," except to E.J.

"Chewy's dead!" Cathie shouted. I knew it couldn't be true. She'd just been there a bit earlier. I hadn't even heard her leave the room. I rushed downstairs. Barefoot, I went outside to see her across the little one-lane steet from our driveway. Chewy was lying in the grass next to the pavement, still warm, but not breathing. I lifted her head, felt her silken chocolate curls beneath my fingers, and didn't want to believe she was gone. I wanted to hold her and comfort her.

Dusty is our cute little Shih Tzu/Peke mix, mostly white with buff-colored points, who can be seen in my shop here: Too Cute for the Dog House. And Winky is the handsome Basset/Beagle mix who posed for this design: Love You Forever. I just hadn't ever gotten around to doing a drawing of Chewy.

As nearly as we can put together, Mom had gone outside to look for Dusty, and Chewy had gone along to take care of her business (so to speak). Mom didn't notice her go out. Then Chewy followed Dusty, who has a bad habit of squeezing out from under our ancient chain link fence. Dusty can see fairly well, though. Chewy could not. A neighbor woman saw an old man driving through hit Chewy, then get out to see if she was okay. He moved her out of the road, but didn't ask around to find her owner.

I guess I should be glad it wasn't one of the children who live in our neighborhood, like my grandson. But I can't find anything about this situation to make me feel glad.

Paul and I spent over an hour digging a hole in a grassy area of the back yard where we buried her beneath the tall trees. I wept intermittently.
I would be going about doing things the rest of the evening and suddenly tear up again. There has been too much sadness and death in the world lately -- much of which touched me -- without its coming into my own personal life.

Now I'm sitting at the desk in the green room, typing at the keyboard, expecting to feel the soft furriness of my little brown shadow rub against my bare feet, thinking I might be required to fuss at her for accidentally turning off the power strip. But that isn't going to happen tonight. I came across her fleecy little doggie bed out in the hall just a while ago, and I haven't yet stopped crying since. Maybe after I post this, I'll try to go to bed. I have to work at 1:30 Friday afternoon. And maybe in a few days or weeks, I'll try to draw a picture to remember her by.

I wish I could have stopped her.

Don't Forget

2009-04-05T01:06:00.004-05:00

While I'm thinking about it, Demi Lovato's video "Don't Forget," currently getting lots of play on the Disney Channel, will always remind me of New Moon. I read that Demi has expressed a willingness to record music for the movie. I wondered if she was thinking about Bella and Edward when she co-wrote this.
This is the full version. The one I'm accustomed to watching is much shorter.

Catching Up

2009-04-04T22:22:00.016-05:00

Hi again. It's Lorilei.

Yeah, I know, I haven't written. I really meant to, but I've been so busy, out having fun.
Yes, I know. I'm a terrible liar.
So, what have I been doing? Let's see....

I've read the first two books in the Twilight Saga. Yes, I enjoy them, though I still prefer Harry Potter. But that's apples & oranges, to me, because no other books are HP, any more than they are Jane Austen.
Doesn't matter. I can't wait to read Eclipse. I just can't figure out how it will all end. I believe in love, but I think the unabated obsession from New Moon is just downright unhealthy. Yeah, I know what I'm talkin' 'bout, Willis. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. It still didn't stop me from crying for Bella. I'm a terribly empathetic person.

But, good golly Miss Molly, that chick is a magnet for pain, grief, and all kinds of bad news. And isn't there enough drama here? Sheesh, Simpson County could be the Forks of the midsouth. I just can't decide which are the werewolves and which are the vampires around these parts.

For a while, my daughter Cathie was trying to be a kind person, and to head off future repercussions with EJ, by setting up supervised visitation with He Who Must Not Be Named. (Oh, sorry, I've already mentioned his name -- Ian the Terrible.)

First, the visits were to take place at Cathie's dad's house in a nearby town, since Ian said he got along fine with Jim. Ian refused to have any contact with either my brother Bobby or my son Paul, since he openly acknowledges his contempt for them both. For some reason, Ian still tried to use this exchange as a chance to talk to Cathie and pressure her to drop the order against him. After this happened once, I became the person to bring EJ to Jim's house. I did not speak to Ian. I'll talk to my ex, but I don't have to talk to hers.

Sometime after supervised visitation had been going on, every Friday morning at Jim's house, the Incredible Dork decided to have everyone return to Family Court to prove something happened which actually had not. Ian swore that on the occasion of his first visitation, Cathie had admitted to him that she'd lied about his threatening behavior, and he said both Jim and Christy (Cathie's stepmother) could swear to it, since they'd both been present. Needless to say, Ian's cause went down. He did not get the order revoked. He couldn't care less about the child involved. But why should he? He doesn't pay any attention to the other children he has fathered, either.

There should be a term for someone who is neither a parent nor just a sperm donor. I mean, there should be a specific term, and one that is acceptable in polite society.

We had several appearances in both family court and district court during the next few months. Between Ian's gleeful disregard for the order that he stay at least 300 feet away from Cathie (and family), and his mother's and his accusations that Cathie was stalking them, we were regulars at the Justice Center.

Jim no longer wanted Ian in his house, at all, so we made arrangements with Community Action Agency to provide supervision for visitation. I transported EJ to the local library, where a woman from the agency took him to spend the allotted two hours in a meeting room with said sperm donor (whatever).

Unfortunately, according to the Family Court schedule, visitation rapidly progressed to un-supervised visits. Exchanges were to take place at the Sheriff's Office. Also unfortunately, the Simpson County Sheriff's Office closes at 5:00 PM, isn't open on holidays, etc., so it still didn't feel like a safe place to meet the jerk. I won't go into all the details about my trips there, but I wasn't happy. EJ smelled like an ash tray after the first visit. I suspect Ian dumped EJ on his mother for the four hour visit, since she is a chain smoker, and Ian denies ever smoking. (Paul says he has seen Ian smoking, but Ian says that is a lie.)

Before it could escalate to the point of all-weekend visits every week, Cathie took him back to Family Court. Our judge had really hoped things were progressing nicely and all bad feelings were healing, but that wasn't the case. Cathie had photos of eczema where Ian had put EJ in diapers he was sensitive to (disregarding what was in EJ's diaper bag). Ian made many rash -- and often contradicting -- statements in the courtroom, including the counterattack accusation that EJ had a black eye on one occasion. Odd that he would take photos at the Sheriff's Office of this alledged black eye, but not think to mention it in court until he got mad. And he got mad a lot. He had to be reminded to stick to the subject at hand, not to get into hearsay, and to avoid other verbal transgressions.

Finally, boy genius (please note my sarcasm) said he wanted to completely forgo visitations with EJ, because Cathie was never going to give him any peace as long as they continued to take place. The judge looked somewhat disbelieving, but then he agreed it could be arranged. So EJ no longer has to go spend time with Voldemort. Trust me, the dude is neither brilliant nor magical, but he has about as much love in his heart.

Yes, there's more. But the divorce is final, and EJ doesn't have to go over there anymore. Now the rest of the drama in my life can assume its usual place. Like the issues with my son and his former roommate. Ah, yes. They were introduced by Ian. She was obsessed with Ian after she slept with him, while Cathie was deployed, and Ian decided to foist her off on someone else. But that's a story for another entry... or two....

Untitled, for now

2009-01-22T16:40:00.004-06:00

I know, this looks like it could be a post from my other blog (http://lorilei-tees.com/), but this design just seems so appropriate for my life at the moment.

A lot has happened in my life since this post last March, and much of it has not been for the better.

The one constant has been that my grandson EJ is the light of our lives. He is so very precious to us, I would never give him up or wish him away.

Ian Matthew Norris lost his job with the Franklin Police Department last year. There was an EPO (Emergency Protection Order) against him as of March, 2008, first in Sumner County, Tennessee, then in Simpson County, Kentucky.
The terminology has apparently changed so this is now called a DVO (Domestic Violence Order). It disallows him from possessing weapons or ammunition, and it restricts him as far as physical proximity to Cathie and other family members. He resigned from the police force rather than be fired, after the Honorable Sid Broderson made the order official in our commonwealth.

Unfortunately, the DVO will most likely expire in March of this year, and then the idiot will think he can do anything he wants. Mainly because he has already thought this for a long time, and the legal restrictions placed on him have hampered him very little in the last ten months.

Cathie lost the best job she'd ever had when she took an honorable discharge from the army. She was due to be shipped to Iraq for the third time, and custody of EJ would have reverted to Ian. That was just unacceptable. A female officer Cathie worked with had warned Cathie to get out of the army and protect her right to be a mother, since she had gone through a similar situation. The woman had lost her own son and daughter to her ex-husband while she was deployed in the Middle East; her ex had charged her with abandonment.

Cathie is a strong and sometimes stubborn young woman. She is a natural leader. She did not want to back down and submit to Ian's intimidation, but I have seen the fear in her when he is near. Ever since he found out she had filed her 2007 taxes separately and he would not be getting all the return, when he called her to threaten and yell at her, she has lived with the fear that he'd eventually go over the line and try to hurt her.

He once lost his temper with her (while they were still together) and tried to hit her, but he missed. Frankly, I think in a fair wrestling match, she could kick his @$$, but he doesn't believe in fair fights any more than he believes in the truth.

live racing at kyd...

2008-09-12T14:03:00.004-05:00

quoted from the twin spires newsletter -

Kentucky Downs - Opening Weekend at Kentucky Downs!

It's opening weekend at North America's only European style racecourse, Kentucky Downs. Enjoy all the action as some of racing's best turf runners, take to the lawn for this official rite of fall.

Things kick off with a bang this Saturday with the annual Kentucky Cup Turf Festival. Three turf stakes are carded for this day including the $200,000 Grade III Kentucky Cup Turf. Silverfoot returns to his old stomping grounds in search of another graded stakes victory. Can this eight-year-old take the cake, or will a fresh face shock the field?

Saturday:

$200,000 Grade III Kentucky Cup Turf
$100,000 Kentucky Cup Ladies Turf
$100,000 Kentucky Cup Turf Dash

Live racing: Saturday, Monday and Tuesday with first post on Monday and Tuesday at 2:30 p.m. EDT and first post on Saturday at 1:10 p.m. EDT.

The Seven Things...

2008-07-09T01:08:00.004-05:00

I saw the part of this that's shown on the Disney Channel. Then I found it that was only half of the song.
Who can't relate to this song? I have to admit, it brings tears to my eyes.
Billy Ray's little girl is growing up to be quite a singer.

Belmont Stakes

2008-06-09T21:44:00.001-05:00

While I was away, having fun... my horse lost.
:(
I am sad.

Kentucky Derby 134

2008-05-05T00:14:00.009-05:00

We interrupt my life to watch the 2008 Kentucky Derby.

This was my ninth Derby, working as a teller at Kentucky Downs Race Track.
I watched the mass of 20 horses streaking for the wire, thinking that my personal pick (Big Brown) was near the front, if nothing else. I couldn't hear the announcer above the excited cheering of the crowd. You'd have thought we were at Churchill. I had a WPS bet on Big Brown, as well as a {5,9,10,20} exacta box. Knowing that it would be several minutes before the race was final and payoffs were available, I took a cash return to the money room. I had so many bills in my box, I nearly couldn't manage them all, and I had almost passed my limit on the total amount, as well.

Afterward, I slipped out to use the restroom and stretch my legs. When I returned to my machine, I saw the race results on the screen. Not only did I have my win-place-and-show bet, but I had my exacta. Since those were the only two bets I had placed, I was two for two. If I had had more time, I had planned to do a trifecta wheel as well. I would have added a couple more horses for good measure, including #16. But since the tri would have been a tax ticket, it's probably just as well. (Yet it might have been cool to win $3,000+, just once....)

Moments later, Paul came downstairs from the TV room to tell me the fate of Eight Belles. I didn't know she had even gone down. With two shattered front ankles, she had collapsed in the cool-down stretch, after finishing second in the race.

The memory of Barbaro is too near. I cry when I think about them. Thoroughbreds are so strong, and yet so fragile.

My daughter Cathie said she thought that injured horses should be kept alive, allowed to live peacefully in retirement. I thought so too, yet I know that a horse that cannot stand will die after a while. And a horse that cannot run might not want to live. I just wish we could figure out a way to keep them from being hurt while doing the thing they love best.

Life is strange

2008-03-08T13:45:00.016-06:00

Every day I see more proof of the strangeness of life. The last three months have made this fact more clear to me than probably any other three months of my life.

My life has become more wonderful because of the birth of my grandson, EJ.

My daughter's life has fallen apart, and she has picked up the pieces to carry on, because her marriage has ended. The fairy tale and the romance are finished. Her husband has shown his true colors.

Cathie said she fell in love again with her childhood sweetheart. Yet he couldn't maintain the fantasy world he created for too long. Eventually, the wedges he tried to drive between her and friends and other family members gave way. Her heart broke down the barriers until she finally saw the truth.

The girl Ian had dated before Cathie was pregnant. He led us to believe that this girl had become pregnant before she became involved with him, and that he had found her out and broken off their relationship. Since I worked with her, her mother, and her grandmother at Kentucky Downs, it became a rather sticky situation, or at least an uncomfortable work atmosphere for me. I couldn't freely talk about my daughter's marriage. Then I couldn't openly share the news that she was expecting. We felt like spies, hiding from the KGB or the CIA or something, watching over our shoulders for the people who were out to get us.
I started seeing signs that Amanda (the other young lady in question) wanted to make peace. But Ian filled Cathie's mind with fear and prejudice, at least as much as a spouse could do. Cathie wanted to trust and support him. She believed in him.

My younger brother has a girlfriend, a young single mother with adorable children I happen to be very attached to. Ian told us (both Cathie and me) this woman was dealing drugs, and that he had her on videotape. According to him, her arrest was imminent. Likewise, Cathie's brother Paul was involved in all manner of shady business, along with his girlfriend. Ian told Cathie that Paul's girlfriend -- another young single parent -- had tried to seduce him (Ian), and that she had announced her intentions to either break up his marriage or cause him to lose his job.

Cathie took on Ian's problems. She took over paying the mortgage and the other bills, many of which he said were left over from his first marriage. He'd told Cathie his first wife had maxed out his credit cards and run off with another man. Now Amanda was suing Ian for child support, too. But Cathie was confident that they could handle the financial burdens together.

Unbeknownst to the rest of her loved ones, Ian had blown up at Cathie over their continued problems while her pregnancy progressed. She was still working at her army base, where she is an E5. Even we knew that she had developed nausea and depression. She had trouble keeping food down. Ian told her he needed space, and he refused to actively participate in what should have been a loving, bonding experience for them as expectant parents.

On Christmas day, Cathie called me to tell me she couldn't come over because she was sick. Just more of the same, she assured me. She couldn't keep food on her stomach, so the prospect of holiday dinner with the family was daunting.
We went to my older brother's house, though I wished Cathie could have come along. Cathie had also developed gestational diabetics (which has since gone away), and she was required to test her blood sugar at intervals throughout the day. She's a medic with a calm attitude about needles and blood, so at least she was handling that part well.

The birth of the baby in January was both wonderful and sad. I wasn't present for the birth, as I had hoped to be, because I was having trouble getting on base to the hospital. Likewise, Ian was also absent. We were told that it was because he was in court with Amanda over their daughter Maddie's child support and custody.
EJ was three weeks early. Just as they were preparing Cathie for a C-section, EJ decided to come naturally. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, but he was still healthy, if tiny, at 5 lbs and 10 oz.

A few weeks later, I was gravely concerned about Cathie's emotional health and the state of her relationships. She had been trying, since December or so, to find and talk to Amanda about Maddie and Ian. She wanted to make peace, even though Ian did not want her talking to Amanda or any of her friends and relatives.
I had managed to help her get back on speaking terms with Paul, and he gave Cathie's cell phone number to Amanda.

That's when things began to get interesting....

Cathie told me she and Amanda had gotten along fine, and the babies were so cute together. Amanda agreed to let Ian see Maddie, even though the hearing had determined that Ian would not get formal visitation for a year.
Cathie also told me she was beginning to doubt some of the things her husband had told her. I was already taking some of it with a grain of salt. After all, wives of cops don't have to be cloaked in complete secrecy. I was married to a state trooper for years, and my older brother has been in law enforcement of some kind ever since he became a police dispatcher at the age of 18. I had thought Ian just needed to learn to be more laid-back about things.

Cathie had been fighting against rumors she had been hearing, only a few of which I'd heard too. Rumors that he'd had an affair with Paul's girlfriend before she started dating Paul, that he'd been caught having sex with a girl in the WalMart parking lot in the back seat of Cathie's extended cab pickup truck, and that he was currently dating a teenaged girl named Heather. We actually drove around town looking for his car.

We were back at their house in the baby's room where Cathie had been sleeping for weeks in an extra bed (she'd said because she kept Ian awake when he was home), when we heard a car in the driveway. Ian's mother (who lives alone next door) was dropping him off. I had long since become uncomfortable being there when Ian came home because I didn't want him to feel I was trying to be a third wheel or interfere with their relationship in any way. I told Cathie and baby EJ goodnight and went home.

A few hours later, my mother was trying to wake me to tell me Cathie's cell phone number was on the caller-ID. I was so groggy, I hadn't even heard the phone ringing. I was trying to call Cathie back when I heard her at the front door. She was on the phone with either my brother or her stepmother, EJ's carrier and the diaper bag in her arms.

Ian is a city police officer. He had been in a fight at work. His sternum had been cracked, so he'd been sent to the hospital emergency room. He had told them to call his mother. Although we thought at the time he asked that Cathie not be called, we now believe that the authorities simply were not aware that he had a wife.

After he was home, Cathie had gone into Ian's room (which was what she had been calling the master bedroom for a while) to talk to him. She asked if he wanted to hold his son. He let her lay the month-old infant on his chest and held a bottle of formula to feed him. Cathie was still doing her darnedest to create a bond there.

His cell phone, which was beside him on the night table, made a sound as a text message came through. Cathie said he got a look of panic on his face, dropped the bottle so it fell on EJ's face (causing him to cry), and reached to turn the phone over. After Ian fell asleep from his pain medication, Cathie gave in to the temptation to pick up the phone and read the message. The phone was filled with messages from Ian's 18 year old girlfriend Heather. She was upset when he hadn't shown up for their date, but she was freaked out when he had told her he had been to the emergency room. She wanted to know if he was okay now that he was home.

Heather lives in Portland, TN, not far down the road. She had met Ian at the bingo hall in Franklin, where he works security. He told Heather that Cathie and he were in the middle of a divorce, but she was waiting until the house deal was settled before signing the papers. Ian said Cathie was buying the house. He and Heather were discussing engagement rings and a cute little house in Tennessee. Heather had hinted that she might be pregnant, but she wanted him to be there when she took her test. Ironic, since the reason he had missed the birth of his son and the custody hearing about his daughter was because he'd been with Heather that afternoon.

Heather wasn't the only one. More and more of the ugly story was spilling out.
The police department was unaware that Ian was even married. Since both Ian and Cathie had cell phones, they had never bothered with a house phone. Cathie had visited the PD with Ian when they were dating last March, and that was the last time the chief had ever seen them together. I knew the two were thinking marriage then, and I felt a maternal sense of concern (okay, then, panic) because it was just too soon. But then I let him draw me in, like he does, and I learned to love him -- at least the "him" that I thought he was. The real Ian is a macho fraud, a fake, and a player. The bee sting incident had caused me to bond with him and care about him.

Cathie went to stay at her dad's for a few days. She had spent nearly a week over there just shortly before, which had caused me some concern, but it wasn't unnatural. It turns out that Cathie's stepmother had never trusted Ian and had always thought he was a conceited jerk, so it was difficult for her to restrain from the "I told you so" thing.

The truth about Christmas day was that Ian had yelled at Cathie about how bad their finances were, and how she was driving him crazy, and if she didn't leave him alone he was going to shoot himself. He also told her he wanted a divorce. He never filed for divorce, or even consulted a lawyer, because he was always broke.

I believed in Ian mostly because I loved Cathie and trusted her judgment. She was blinded by the need to be loyal to the man she loved. He was a complete sham.

Ian dated Amanda for a long time. They broke up once, after she was pregnant with his baby (a fact she never disputed, though he'd personally told me otherwise), when Amanda found out he was cheating with another girl. Amanda was crushed.

During most of her pregnancy, Amanda was working as a teller at the track, and she spent a great deal of that time feeling sick and depressed. I knew she had a boyfriend whom she said had told her he doubted the baby was his, and I thought that was just a dodge on this guy's part, but I wasn't privy to names and other details. When Cathie started dating Ian, I had no clue about the connection. Actually, it was Ian himself who explained the relationship to me. I was surprised but impressed by his standup attitude. He didn't want me to hear rumors and take it the wrong way, and his relationship with Amanda was in the past. I could see where she had probably pursued a relationship with Ian after learning she was pregnant by whichever boy had dumped her.

Or so went the story from the fantasy land of Ianworld.

In reality, when Ian met Cathie again, she had been split up from boyfriend Chris (another soldier) for several months. She had just returned from a tour in Iraq only to find out she had been extended and she would have to return.

Then she met Ian again. It was like a window opening. It made all the other things in her life make sense -- except for returning to Iraq. Here is an excerpt from a post from last year in this blog:

Cathie came home from Iraq a few months ago, only to find out she had to go right back. She tried to be optimistic about it, but she was really sad. She was also told that when she returned to the US, she'd be headed for a post in Washington state. (That's all the way over on the other side of the country, boys and girls.)
Ian said not to worry. He said he could get a job there so they could still be together.

What a guy, what a guy! They were already talking marriage within days. (That's just his style.) She thought she'd found the love of her life after once losing him when they were kids, when his family had moved away.

Cathie's stay was extended by a paperwork snafu, and she rented a car to come back home from Fort Bragg (NC), but she spent most of her time with Ian. I was not sold on him yet, because Cathie and I hadn't even discussed Chris yet, and my brain was sending up red flags and fireworks. (Red sparks, Hagrid! Someone's in trouble!)
When Cathie returned to Iraq, Ian made up with Amanda. They resumed their engagement. Then Cathie told him (during one of their daily phone conversations) that she was pregnant. The army wouldn't keep her in Iraq , so she would be sent back to Fort Bragg. She and Ian decided to get married when she returned to the US.

Last year, March signaled the beginning of change at the track, with a new group planning to purchase the controlling shares the company. There were significant changes at CafePress that impacted them as well. Even their Google ranking dropped like a rock for some time.
I had doubts about both of my jobs. I was at a phase in my participation in the Vanderbilt study on depression where I was kind of winging it, going solo, like Dumbo when he finds out he doesn't have a magic feather in his cap anymore. (Oh, you know, the cartoon. If you have never seen it, you are deprived. Go rent it.)

All this stuff sent me into a dark place for a while. I needed a flashlight to find my way out. And then I found my wand to guide me. Lumos. But it took several more months before I really felt better. Life did change at the track when it changed hands. For one thing, my brother no longer worked there. For another, Paul worked in Bobby's place, though not for the same pay. My hours changed, getting worse, then better, partly because several other tellers began to leave.

I also quit doing the Kentucky Downs gear through Horses-Around on CafePress. The wife of one of our new owners was an Equine Artist (because they are apparently superior to the rest of us peons), so the track is now filled with her work. There's a monochromatic screen printed t-shirt and sweatshirt now on sale, replacing my designs and t-shirts. I rescued my stuff from the cabinet where they had been stashed and took them home. Even though I had legal signed permission to use the KYD name and facilities to sell merchandise, I decided it would useless to complain. All I would likely do is endanger my job as a teller.

Amanda and Ian had a disagreement on June 25, no doubt engineered by him. Cathie returned home on July 3. She and Ian married on July 5. I think when it came down to the wire, Cathie just had a better paying job than Amanda. Also, the fact that she could be deployed to other countries or other bases in US made it very convenient for his accustomed lifestyle. She wouldn't be there to catch him cheating.

When the truth came out about Ian, it enabled me to redirect the distrust I had felt toward several other tellers to the real owner of all the trouble, Ian, and it was great. A sense of relief and freedom accompanied the new anger, so it empowered me. Finding out her husband had been cheating on her since day one did the same for my daughter. She was nothing but courageous, changing from the remorseful hermit I had worried about, hiding in her house across town, to a woman with a purpose, a single mother with an innocent child.

Cathie and EJ spent the night at different family homes over the next several days. Ian, his mother, and his estranged father changed the locks on the door to the house and refused to let Cathie return for clothing, her computer, an extra set of car keys, and baby formula and supplies. Ian threatened to have her arrested for messing with the information on the Iphone. He neglected to own two facts -- that he was, indeed, cheating on her, and that he had withdrawn $500 from Cathie's checking account, causing checks she had written for household bills to bounce.

Cathie located the girl who had been exchanging the latest text messages with Ian. She lived in Portland, where she had graduated high school in 2007. She was using her grandmother's cell phone most of the time, though she occasionally used her sister's or her best friend's. Cathie spoke to her grandmother, explaining how Ian had fooled this girl. Heather thought Ian had filed (and paid) for a divorce, and that all that remained was for Cathie to sign the papers and leave the house. Then the story had changed to Cathie buying the house. Makes me wonder why Ian had not just moved out, since Cathie had actually planned to buy the house, before she left him. Hmm. Hey, maybe that was another lie on his part.

Heather expressed the desire not to see him again and assured Cathie that it was definitely over. Oddly enough, we have since heard that she is now living in the house with Ian. I don't drive by to see if the for sale sign is still in the yard, since I would be accused of stalking or harassing them. If the foreclosure hasn't gone through, I'm guessing that perhaps Heather has the financial resources to help pay the bills. Odd that she didn't have a cell phone of her own....

Ian has lost his job. Ah, but that requires a lot more explanation. I promise I'll be back to finish the story later.

Quantum Leap video ~ "Always On Your Side"

2008-01-31T16:06:00.000-06:00

Valentine's Day Secret....

2008-01-05T10:42:00.000-06:00

Christmas Bears and Penguins, rockin' out to the Beach Boys

2007-12-17T17:06:00.000-06:00

I love this ad. Even though I no longer drink Coca-Cola, I always love their Polar Bears. I also admire their taste in music.

Cheers!

Granddog #2

2007-09-09T21:44:00.000-05:00

One of my granddogs lives here. Cathie and Ian's dog is Chewy, short for Chewbacca Brownie, a chocolate cocker spaniel. (Even her nose is brown.)

But now there is another.... yes, but not Leia or Luke. It is Mister Spock.
Eve and Aaron have adopted a beagle puppy. This video was when he was 11 weeks old. Eve says he is about twice this size, now that he is 18 weeks.

He isn't doing much in this video. But he's being little and cute, which is enough.
This may be the new house. I am not sure. It sure doesn't seem possible it could have been over 7 weeks since they moved. Wow!

Can you hear me now?

2007-09-05T01:04:00.000-05:00

I think I need to start yelling at people.
No, I really hate that idea. It does something to my insides.

I purchased a card to send something to a friend of mind on Tuesday. She lives north of San Francisco. I live north of Nashville, TN, in a rather small town. But we do have a local art gallery. So I bought a card with a reproduction of a watercolor, an autumn scene in Kentucky. Very nice. I talked to the gallery director about the weather (here and in San Francisco), upcoming art shows, and the current requirements for art reproductions for sale.

I wrote a message to my friend inside the card. I labeled and sealed the envelope, and then I waited in line at the post office. There were liberty bell stamps and flag stamps in the vending machine, but I wanted something pretty and different for the card. My friend notices things like that. Thinking of the smile that would be on her face when she saw it made me smile, too.

"Can I help you?" said the woman at the counter, when it was my turn.

"I'd like to mail this card," I said, extending the envelope. "I didn't want to get one of the stamps from the machine. What kind of stamps do you have today?"

She punched a button swiftly, tore off the stamp that popped out, and slapped it on my card. I watched as the envelope disappeared into a slot. She looked back up at me.

"Anything else? You need a book of stamps or anything?" she asked me, obviously unaware I had been saying anything of importance.

"No, nothing," I said. I left.

The woman at the gallery must have better hearing or something.

My daughter, the poet

2007-08-25T01:54:00.000-05:00

No links here.
Sometimes I find things on the internet which I was never meant to read. Poems, short stories, stream-of-consciousness philosophy from my middle child. I dearly love all three of my children, but each of them has given me sorrow as well as joy -- even now, as adults.

Sometimes I feel so unworthy of her, and yet mortally wounded by her. When I read her words, so beautiful, pure, and terrible, that I cry. I have let her down. I have disappointed her. She was incredible, innocent, natural, and yet frighteningly intelligent. I feel stupid by comparison. And so unworthy.

I know that many of these pieces were written years ago, in her teens and her very early twenties, and yet they haunt me. So why do I read them? Because part of the child that she was speaks to me, and I crave the communication.

Her younger sister tells me I am the worlds's best mother, and that I have sacrificed everything to give each of them all the love and encouragement they needed. Listening to her, I could nearly start to feel like Rosie the Riveter or Wonder Woman... except... I know, in my heart, how many times I have failed.

I need to remind myself of the things that make me happy, and the reasons I feel I am lovable. Reading, writing, drawing... sleep is an elusive thing.

Watching the clock...

2007-07-10T22:38:00.000-05:00

I'm waiting for time to head to the theater to see Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Well, I still need to make supper. Just for me, tonight, though, since Gran is at my older brother's house, and Paul and Ian are hanging out with Paul's half-brother, Chris.

I'm getting caught up on a few online tasks before I change. I'm not taking a robe or a wand, just wearing this t-shirt -

- and possibly the cap that goes with it.

I used Fandango to try to get 11:59 PM tickets for tonight, but they goofed, and so I goofed. Now I have 11:59 PM tickets for the regular showing. Since IMAX's showing at that time is now sold out, I'll be changing the tickets for the 3:00 AM showing. The IMAX tickets cost a little more, but I know it will be worth it.

Some critics have said the yelling and angst in OotP are a little over the top, but I say you just can't expect to get everything in a movie that you do in a book. Make no mistake, I love movies. It's just that they and books are apples and oranges.

I am terrible about watching the Harry Potter movies and saying, "But in the book, this happened..." or "But they left this out! And it's important!" I recently made myself watch the earlier movies on DVD again, trying to free myself of expectations. They are still far and away better than most fanfics I've read! They are abbreviated versions of the books, with illustrations. Moving illustrations, like the paintings and photographs in the wizarding world. Yes, a few things annoy me, and a few things amuse me, about changes that are made. I am still saddened by Richard Harris' passing, because he will always be my Dumbledore. My Dumbledore is gentle, even though he is a force to be reckoned with. My Dumbledore would never shake Harry or any other student to get the truth. Dumbledore does not resort to violence to learn facts. He is the epitome of wisdom.

Hermione is brilliant, but earnest, not snug. Ron doesn't realize that he is smart. He has a wealth of knowledge about the wizarding world. He's just been in the shadow of five uniquely resourceful brothers all his life. And Harry? He is no slouch. Almost everything we know comes through him. He is our eyes, our mind, and our heart.

Sorry. I'm getting too caught up in this again. I can't help it. I so love a good story.

The bees' knees

2007-07-10T21:49:00.000-05:00

Actually, I'm not sure bees have knees. But whatever they have, I'd appreciate them keeping them away from my family.

As I've said, Cathie married her childhood sweetheart Ian last week. She's back at Fort Bragg, NC, now, until October. She will get to take leave again before then. In October, she gets reassigned to Fort Campbell. In the meantime, her husband Ian is here in town.

Cathie left on Sunday. Ian was checking out a bees nest that evening when he was struck by the irate inhabitants. He had stings from at least six or seven yellow jackets. One of them left a nasty trail down his arm as he tried to brush it from his skin. He thought he needed to rest afterward, and then he changed clothes for work. He spoke to Cathie on the phone, and she urged him to go have his injuries checked by a doctor. She's a medic, and his symptoms worried her more than they did him.

I had gone to sleep early after work, and I was a little slow on the uptake when Paul tried to wake me sometime after ten. He told me he'd talked to Cathie, and that we needed to go help Ian, who had been stung by bees.

For some reason, my groggy brain "remembered" the fact that Ian was allergic to bee stings -- although in reality, I had never been told anything of the sort. It got my adreniline pumping, however, and I took Paul over to Ian's house.
Ian wasn't there.
We drove to the ER, where we saw his car. We confirmed the fact that he was inside, and they were treating him. The clerk in reception told us they were running a few more tests on him.

We saw a couple of other city officers leave, but I didn't know them personally, and I suspected they wouldn't know me. It's been too long since my brother was on the local police force, and my ex-husband is retired from the state police, now.

We spoke with Cathie again. I agreed to stay, since Paul would have to work at 8:00 in the morning. One of the nurses came to get me a few minutes later. Since the waiting room temperature felt like it was just above freezing, I was even happier to leave it.

Ian is completely unaccustomed to drugs. He doesn't even use Tylenol on a regular basis. The drugs he had been given to treat his condition had made him extremely groggy and disoriented. I wasn't even sure he recognized me.

Sometime between midnight and one, they moved him to a room. They asked him a lot of questions, checked his blood pressure, and did an EKG. His heart rate and blood pressure had been doing some odd things. And although he had never been allergic to bees, as far as he knew, he is now.

Once he was settled and asleep, I put the footrest out on the padded chair and read. I tried to stay awake for the doctor, but I found I'd drifted off sometime around five or six. The doctor's movement in the room startled me shortly before 7:00. I do remember speaking to him, at least, although Ian didn't.

It was a long day. Ian did eat breakfast, and a little lunch. I left for a short time to eat and to change clothes. I was wearing capri pants with a short sleeved shirt and sandals, and I had resorted to retrieving two hooded jackets from my car. It was too cool in there for me.

He was still having pain in his arms and in his chest, and I was concerned about what he would do when he was discharged ... as well as when he would be discharged, since the doctor had said he would be.

We finally left. We went to the doctor's office to pick up his prescriptions and ask a few more questions, then took his off-work note to the police department before getting his prescriptions filled. He stayed at our house to eat with us before Paul took him home. Cathie had asked Paul to stay with him for a while.

Meanwhile, I crashed. I slept from about 6:30 or 7:00 PM until 2:00 AM. Then I couldn't get back to sleep. Urgh! I felt like the Incredible Grouch.

That was this morning. I'm more fully rested now. I have taken a lovely bath, and I feel pretty much like a human being. Great, because I'll be up all night, watching Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix at the IMAX theater at Opry Mills.

Just no more bees, please.

You are invited to a wedding

2007-07-09T19:13:00.000-05:00

Welcome to a wedding!
It's an odd story -- sweet and romantic, though.

Cathie is my army daughter. Though she is from a small town in southern Kentucky, she has been around the world and met many people, in her nine years of army life.
She has considered marriage in the past, but had trouble finding the right guy.

One guy was from a military family, and it looked like things would be great for them... for a while. But then they weren't. He was manipulative and controlling. I was happy when she finally said it was over.
The next man in her life was a little hard for me to warm up to. He was different, but he still seemed a little aloof.

Then they split up, but she hesitated to tell anyone. So we really didn't know what was going on. And when she ran into an old neighborhood buddy from back in the day, we were kind of confused.

So Cathie finally came clean that, yes, she and the other guy were history. And, yes, she was dating Ian. Ian, who lived across the street back, when, sixth grade? Ian's a police officer now. He still has the polite manners I remember from way back, but he's taller, now, and he wears a badge. It says, "to protect and to serve."

Cathie came home from Iraq a few months ago, only to find out she had to go right back. She tried to be optimistic about it, but she was really sad. She was also told that when she returned to the US, she'd be headed for a post in Washington state. (That's all the way over on the other side of the country, boys and girls.)
Ian said not to worry. He said he could get a job there so they could still be together.

Then Cathie found out she could come home early, although she'll need to be in North Carolina for two more months. And instead of Washington, she'll be able to transfer to Fort Campbell again. Yay!

When Cathie got back to the US, she came home on a short leave.
"Mom, we're getting married. On Thursday," she announced.

No time for bridesmaids, rose petals, candles, and lace. Those will have to wait a few months. The couple chose rings from the jeweler's shop on the square. They were married in the judge's chambers in the historical courthouse, next to an American flag. Cathie had to be back in NC by Monday.

I took some pictures, some of which I posted on Flickr.
I also took my first ever video.

Getting CREATIVE for the holidays

2007-07-02T18:42:00.000-05:00

I have had an ongoing grumble about shipping. I know any kind of shipping (any kind of **delivery** for that matter) is generally a pain in the tooshie, but UPS and I have this love-hate thing going on.
http://www.squidoo.com/road2CP/

As it happens, this year, July 4th falls on a Wednesday. Even if it didn't, Kentucky Downs Race Course would still be open. I work there as a parimutuels teller.

We asked Ryan, our GM, if we're allowed to wear patriotic t-shirts that day, and he said yes, that would be fine. This weekend, we found out they'd decided to have an actual contest.
Since I'm considered the creative, artistic one, there's pressure on me to do this.

I looked up costumes. Pfft. Not really my cup of tea. (Sorry, Adam -- I had to say that.) I made wisecracks about perhaps showing up as a 1776-era Quidditch player. I don't think everyone got that. **sigh**

I looked up dresses online (pre-Regency era, with fitted waistlines and 3/4 length sleeves) and fabric types, but I don't really have the time to create my own dress. I even thought of dressing as a Native American, but I do really want to do the red-white-and-blue thing.

My original intention was to wear this t-shirt:
http://www.cafepress.com/americolors.85242846

It really does look cuter in person. I need to take a photo of it, too.

But I uploaded a new design using an older drawing of mine, last week, and I find that it has shipped. It was in Lexington (Lexington??), and it was due to arrive tomorrow. Maybe it will actually arrive in time for me to wear it Wednesday.
http://www.cafepress.com/lorilei.134173546

I wanted to get the red one, but I think I'd better go with black. I'm not sure how vivid a white Lady Liberty would be on the red shirt, honestly. I may experiment and try making her grey or a pale copper-green.

I also considered doing this shirt ~ http://www.cafepress.com/lorilei.145764524 ~

and using iron-on rhinestones and t-shirt paint to jazz it up. But I'll do that later. I'd never finish that by Wednesday.

Anyway, is that going to be creative enough? I'm afraid it pales in comparison to Kayla's appearance as the actual Statue of Liberty last July 4th. She's a statuesque young lady of 19 with long, wavy auburn hair, and her costume just really suited her.
This year Ryan suggested someone could come as Betsy Ross (which had also occurred to me, obviously!), but Kayla confessed that she doesn't remember who Betsy Ross was. It pains me to think how many things kids are not taught (or do not remember) from 12 years of school. :(

Anyway, presuming the new t-shirt does arrive and is in good shape, I think I'll wear it with white slacks and red/white/blue shoes I usually wear only on patriotic holidays. I also have star-shaped red and blue clippies I'll wear in my hair. They're great for keeping the hair out of my eyes when I'm punching tickets.

So, even if I'm not Betsy Ross or Lady Liberty, or Paul Revere... do you think that will be acceptable, taking into consideration the time restraints? Or is my reputation as the creative teller doomed?

Lorilei
http://americolors.us

The time is drawing near....

2007-06-21T01:49:00.000-05:00

Ah, yes, my dears, do gaze with me into the crystal orb -- or your monitor, if you don't have one.

Less than a month remains before the opening of "Order of the Phoenix," and then mere days until the last Harry Potter Book Party/release (**sniff**) for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

I've just finished reading this book from Mugglenet, which raises questions more than answering them -- as is their intention.
http://www.mugglenet.com/app/news/show/412
http://www.alivans.com/custom/cart/edit.asp?p=96324

Actually, I got my copy through Amazon, but it's also at Barnes & Noble and other bookstores.

I recently reread all the previous six books in the series, balking again in HBP in the Cave chapter. Things are just so very great between Harry and Dumbledore by this time, you hate to move on. But you have to. So even as you read what follows, and you pay tribute within your heart, your heart is breaking with the grief individual characters are feeling. I had flashbacks to Aslan in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, but that was C.S. Lewis's take on the magical world. There is no coming back in J.K. Rowling's world.

Anyway, I was in mourning when I finished. Knowing only bad things can come to some of my beloved characters, at least until the Horcruxes have been destroyed and Voldemort made mortal once more, I was feeling bereft. I know my heart will be broken again the weekend of July 21, 2007, while I read book 7.

I'm asking off work that weekend, because I know the people I work with just won't get it. Several of them really like the Harry Potter movies and books, but I'd beat them in a Harry Potter trivia contest like Hermione could beat Crabbe and Goyle at ... just about anything requiring a brain.

Do I think Harry will die? No, I don't. But I think he will be *willing* to die for his cause.

Probably, as much as anything else, I will be mourning the end of the series. I know it can't be like M*A*S*H, and run for years and years, but I can't stand the idea that it _will_ be_ over.
It's like finding out Jane Austen wrote *only* six books, and that the only sequels to "Pride and Prejudice" have been written by other Janites.

To console myself, I browsed through my copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them -
http://tinyurl.com/3782rr

The notes in the margins of Harry's textbook, alone, could make you laugh. The descriptions of various magical creatures, many of which we've met briefly in the series, are interesting and delightful. Based on what I have discovered there, I will make the assertion that Crookshanks isn't an ordinary cat, but at least partly Kneazle. The Kneazle is a cat-like creature, which can interbreed with cats, but has its own interesting powers. Included is the uncanny ability to detect "unsavoury or suspicious characters" (can you say, "Here, Scabbers"?), as well as the ability to guide its owner home safely if he or she becomes lost. (Will Crookshanks be instrumental in guiding our Trio in book 7?)

Then I reread the four chapters of the fanfic I started years ago, before I read HBP. That story took quite a different turn from book 6. But I think I'll be working on it again, anyway, because it's fun, and it's going to be therapeutic.

Even as Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth are still dancing and talking in my imagination, and Hawkeye and BJ are still sitting around the Swamp, so will these young wizards and witches always reside within my heart.

When I close book 7 next month, I won't be saying "nox," but "mischief managed."

Lorilei
*I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.*

Chocolate Moose - dog art

2007-06-11T15:23:00.000-05:00

You have to see this one. It is too cool.

May the Force be with you....

2007-05-26T23:13:00.000-05:00

Untitled (because sometimes words just fail you)

2007-05-10T15:06:00.000-05:00

Recently, a friend of mine posted about something in his blog. Moreover, he linked to it in our Yahoo group so we would all be aware of it.

I think I have freaked out a few people, though they've been giving me plenty of space. It's time to come clean, so to speak.

I'm one of those people you hear about. I have clinical depression. I'm really not that unusual, in that respect, either. In fact, for a long time, I thought I was so not-unusual that I chose not to act on it. Even though as a teenager, I was afraid I was mentally ill, crazy, or on the verge of -- something dreadful.

People who are depressed can also be happy, can fall in love, can live life. It's all just so much easier without the depression.

In the last few years, I finally sought help. I went to a family physician first. (It's amazing how many drugs I don't respond to, or am allergic to.) And then a friend told me about a study at a nearby university hospital. I've been going there for a while now. As I said, I have been feeling much better. Happier, stronger, more confident, less inclined to mood swings and emotional doldrums. I was more visibly the person I felt I really was on the inside.

Last month, I realized I was experiencing something new. Not only did my mood change drastically, but I became physically ill as well.
I really hated that trip to the dark side. I don't want to go there again.

I'm better, though not the same. I'm speaking to some folks in the study next week about a reevaluation. We'll see if I need to make adjustments, and what kind of changes I may need to make.

Meanwhile, I'm not as active online. I'm trying to take care of me.
I don't want my friends to feel I have abandoned them. I'm grateful they've given me some time.
I'll be back. And I might be the me you all think you know, or it might just be me.

mood changes

2007-04-11T16:25:00.000-05:00

This is probably not an appropriate place for this. But here goes.

I am frustrated. I feel inadequate. I feel like I'm covering something up -- and part of it is anger.
I don't want to direct that anger towards anyone else, especially anyone I care about. Neither do I want to hold it in, because that is not good for me.

For the last few years, I've been taking part in a study on depression at an area research facility. I have been doing well, and I'm in a transitional phase. For a month and a half, I have been off the medication I was taking. It is rough, at times. But right now, it's -- worse.

There's a lot of change occurring in my personal life right now. It's a little overwhelming. So I may be around, online, or I may not be. If I'm not, it's probably because I feel like I'm going to blow up. Or I'm just too busy.

My younger daughter is home for two weeks before she returns to Iraq until October. I probably will see very little of her while she's here, but I'm used to it.

Even now, it's time for me to leave for work. I'm just not ready. So -- I'll see you around. Maybe.

Bunnies, bunnies...

2007-04-08T21:37:00.000-05:00

My daughter Eve needs to see these. So I have decided to embed them here.
Eve has a warped sense of humor, so I think she will like this video. Then she should click on the link to go see Lisa's other videos, because they are also very weird.

I hope she'll laugh so much, there'll be tears in her eyes.

Dog Blogging!

2007-04-07T13:50:00.000-05:00

It's a bird...
it's a plane...
it's another cool video with animals!

This one was posted by my friend Mary from evisionarts. The featured store is listed there.

Happy Easter, or whatever joyous event you may celebrate.

Insanity on a Stick

2007-04-02T22:28:00.000-05:00

Arggggh!
I am going to run away.
I don't know when I will be back.

I'm taking everything with me. Except my computer.

I've been a moderator on the CafePress board since 2002. I rarely take a break from it. Sometimes -- no, often, I neglect my stores and my feeble attempts at marketing because I get so much into the behind-the-scenes stuff.

When I wasn't there, I was nurturing my group for CP-addicts and others.

Then, one day, all you-know-what broke loose at the CP board. There were changes afoot, and many people would be affected. No one was happy. No one could agree on answers to questions. Solutions were questionable. People were in an uproar.

And then someone mentioned my group.

Suddenly, hoards of disgruntled CP folk were applying for membership. I was approving new members, but keeping them on no-post moderated-only status.
My email filled up with approval emails for memberships and for posting. The posting had already gone haywire from the regular members. Now it was worse. I abandoned hope of catching up on old posts and tried to stay on top of new ones, still watching the fires burning on the CP board.

During March, we had 2,913 posts, breaking our old monthy post count record from November 2002. Today is April 2, and there have been 251, so far this month. It appears that it is slowing down a bit.

I love my group. But it isn't my "happy place" right now.

I was staying up for hours at night to read, edit, moderate, and post, but I was not enjoying myself. I was neglecting my stores, my life, and myself. So I decided to take a break.
Only I can hear it calling to me. No, I'm not. I'm not going to go there. They can calm down a bit and read. It'll do them good.
I'm going to work on stores and art. I'm going to expand my horizons and further educate myself. I'm going to relax.

But I'm going to be itching to get back to the peaceful, happy place. I hope they haven't blown it up by the time I get there.

There's something in the BLOG....

2007-03-16T14:42:00.000-05:00

Since we've been talking about blogs in my online group lately, I thought this article might be interesting to anyone just now sticking their toes into the bog -- uh -- *blog* pool.

I subscribe to the SiteProNews newsletter, and I actually read most of the articles. Sometimes they contain information I have the ability to use. Sometimes they just give me some goals to work toward.

http://www.sitepronews.com/archives/2007/mar/16.html
"How to Create Your First Blog" (by Donna Gunter)

The title of this article sounds embarrassingly elementary, but the artictle itself is filled with information that might be good for even the experienced blogger to take into consideration.

When I started my first actual blog, I called it an online journal. It was a LiveJournal account, courtesy of my daughter Eve. I experienced some heavy-duty writer's block and froze up. I still have the account, but I don't think I've posted there in... years. It was sort of like when I joined the "serious" writers in a class at WKU as a dewy-eyed seventeen year old. (One class in, I panicked and dropped the creative writing class.)

Now I'm not quite as scared. The experience-hardened, mean-looking, carnivorous fellow creative writers aren't criticizing my looks and/or age, belittling my views on life, or chewing up my work.

At worst, my blog may get ignored. But sometimes people find it while searching for something we have in common. They often click through to my store after reading what I've written. How cool is that?

I'm bookmarking Ms. Gunter's list to remind me what to keep trying to do with my blogs.
Then I'm going to take off with the creative writing for Painters Bluff. -- They don't allow those writer types from the WKU class there.
Besides, now *I* have been published, too. Take that, you old meanies! :Þ

(Wow. This post was so much fun, I'm blogging it, too.)

Lorilei
http://lorilei-tees.com

Adventures in Lorileiland

2007-03-04T22:54:00.000-06:00

Bleah. I am sooo glad tomorrow is Monday! You must keep in mind that actual weekends are busy days for me, and Monday and Tuesday are my weekend.

My son Paul had army reserve drill this weekend. He drives to Nashville very early on Saturday and Sunday morning, on drill weekends, coming home at night. So I was all prepared for working without him at the track on Saturday night.

But before I could get my money and login to my machine, just before 5:00, my phone rang. (It's the Nokia ring, like Allison Dubois' on Medium.) Since I almost never get calls on my cell phone, especially when I'm at work, I felt anxious. It was Paul calling.

His car was losing power going up the long hill between White House and Millersville (Tennessee) on I-65. I told him to pull off the road in as safe a place as possible and I'd come get him. One of my assistant managers agreed with my plan, and I left.

Outside, the wind was blowing almost sideways, hurling giant fluffs of snow that, thankfully, were not sticking to the ground. But the sun was dropping, and so was the air temperature.

Rather than go back to exit 2 for gas, I headed down 31W (running nearly parallel to the interstate) to the first Portland exit to get gas before continuing south. Wow! The gas had been $2.249/gal at the Franklin (KY) Flying J at exit 2, but it was even worse, $2.379/gal, at the Portland exit. So I put in just $5 worth (slightly over two gallons) and got on I-65.

The Kentucky/Tennessee line is a bit north of the 121 mile marker. Paul confirmed that he was at the bottom of the 104 exit ramp, on the shoulder, so I would have to drive to the next exit past him and turn north in order to be on his side of the road. So I drove to exit 98, Millersville.
I could say several mean things about Millersville, but it wouldn't be nice. However, I may drop one or two of them into this story at some point. I'm only human.

Paul was wearing his work uniform. They used to call them BDUs or cammis, but now they have another name. They are kind of an urban camoflage print. He also had his brown combat boots and his wool hat. His blue eyes were rimmed with redness, showing evidence of his long day.

Okay, I'm his mom. I have to show him off a bit. (Isn't he cute?) This is a pic of him inside a tank, when he was still regular army. (He has shaved off the mustache since then, too.)

Anyway, back to my story.

We called for roadside service to come tow the car. The car had been smoking from under the hood as he pulled over, and Paul was afraid the head gasket had blown.

We took a quick side trip to one of the exit 104 truck stops to use the restroom and get something to drink before returning to the stalled car. Naturally, we had to drive back to exit 98 to get to the northbound lane where the Grand Am was parked. The 98 exit has to be one of the worst intersections of 31W and I-65 which I have ever seen. There is one lane for you to turn left, one to turn right, several options in each direction, and too much traffic trying to get into too few places. Whenever I come home from Nashville, I avoid the right lane in that vincinity, because traffic waiting at that intersection is usually backed up into the interstate -- yes, into traffic that should be flowing about 70 miles an hour.

Okay, I have to say it. I can't resist. I once commented on the fact that Millersville was starting to get some actual buildings, because it used to be one giant trailer park. That isn't entirely true, since there have been lots of tiny houses for years now. But when I used to deliver Domino's Pizza around White House in 1998, Millersville was the kind of skanky area to deliver to. Most of the places in White House and Goodlettsville were quite upscale by comparison.

That's one of the reasons I referred to Millersville as Redneck Central, as we watched Nascar Wannabees zoom past us. I later ammended the name to Redneck Alley, after an unfortunate Thoroughbred by the same name.

The tow truck driver found us and loaded the car on the flatbed. We led him back home, to the garage where the car will be worked on Monday morning. Then Paul and I headed back to the house. I called the track, thinking surely they wouldn't ask me to come back in at 7:30 at night. I was wrong.

So I changed into a warmer coat, since it had become much colder. I stopped at Flying J on the way and put $20 worth of gas in the car. It was running on fumes, again, after my 71 mile excursion. When I reached the track, it was 8:00. We closed shortly after 10:00. Meghan and Kayla had made tons of tips. I worked two hours and had made about forty cents in tips. {{sniff}}

Since Cathie is currently stationed in Iraq, her truck was at my brother Bobby's house. Paul will be driving it until he is able to drive the other car again. I'd let Paul use the Honda, but the manual transmission would be hard on his knee. He reinjured his knee during the previous drill weekend. He's off his crutches now, but still using an elastic knee brace. More about that at another time.

Fortunately, Paul didn't need me to wake him Sunday morning. Bobby and I had brought the truck over after work Saturday. I took Mom to church and got ready for work. (Hadn't I just left there?)

In addition to khaki pants, a turtleneck, and my black KD ranch polo shirt, I wore a green velour zippered hoodie, and a festive bow in my hair. Why? you may ask. Because it's March 4th, less than two weeks before St. Patrick's Day, and Kentucky Downs was having its 2006 Christmas party Sunday night after closing. Woo-hoo!
Yes, it is a bit late. We had the 2005 Christmas party in February, last year.

I'm recommending that we wait until Halloween 2008, for this year's Christmas party. We could hold it on the third floor, and wait to see if any actual ghosts show up....

Life at KD is too weird, to say the least. I'll skip over most of the details of the six hour shift. There were some odd occurances, but now is not a good time to get into all that.

Paul didn't stop by for the party. He has class in the morning, and he needed sleep. Bobby had to work security till 3:00 AM. But I did attend the Kentucky Downs party for over an hour, and I hobnobbed with coworkers for a bit. The two major pasttimes promised to be (1) dancing to (or watching others dance to) music and (2) drinking. There was food, but it was mostly food that was guaranteed to set my digestive tract on fire.

I don't drink, and I don't care for the popular mix of music. It was being played by Scooter Davis, a sort of famous area deejay. There was a strong possibilty of bouts of karaoke, as well.

It was a bad sign when I oohed over the beginning notes of the Beatles song "Let It Be," and after only one verse, Scooter turned it off in favor of some 80s-90s-esque crap. It was like no one could understand how THAT had ended up on the speakers. (Incidentally, this is no reflection on Mr. Davis. He was the one who brought the Beatles along. Apparently the bar-huggers gave my heroes the instant thumbs-down and told Scooter to stop playing that kind of music.)

"You're going? Already?" others were asking me as I began making my goodbyes.

"I have reached my Fun Quota for the night," I said with a grin. "I've had all I can stand."

So I came home, talked to my mom, fed the dogs, took out the trash, made something to eat, and got online.
Ah, now this is my idea of fun.

Party on, dudes!

Purr-fect Timing

2007-02-27T23:08:00.000-06:00

You've got to love this video!
I'm sending it to my older daughter, who suffers from acute kitty-withdrawal.

My friend Brent

2006-10-31T22:18:00.000-06:00

Excuse the interruption. I haven't told all the CPConnect story, but sometimes life take an unexpected turn.

There have been many things I have wanted to do, in my life. Besides being a mother, a writer, and an artist, I wanted to be a teacher. Although I never had my own classroom at nearby Franklin Elementary, where I could have walked to school on pleasant days if I chose, I was still a teacher. I did substitute teaching for many grade levels in several school systems. I taught art, English, math, chemistry, health, guidance, physical education, and computer science.

My favorite teaching experience was from 1988 to 1994, when I taught Head Start, pre-school, school-age, and infants/toddlers at my college alma mater's daycare center. I conducted circle time, read Dr. Seuss and Richard Scarry, sang "Willoughby Wallaby" on field trips, drove a university van full of kids to Berheim Forrest and Mammoth Cave Park, and met many remarkable people under 48" high.

There were many children I will think of with fondness the rest of my life. One of them was Brent. When I first met him, Brent was two years old, and in another teacher's group. I had a two-year-old in my own group named Jeremy, a fiesty, out-going little squirt who easily won people's hearts. By comparison, Brent moved more awkwardly and responded more slowly to things, rarely speaking more than a word at a time. Brent surprised me one day during nap time when he pointed to a drawing another child had done of a large bird. He pronounced a single word -- "Eagle." Not just a bird, but a bird of prey. Not just a species, but a subspecies.

As time passed, I learned he had developmental delay. He was not like other children in some respects, though very like them in others. He learned the names of other children in the center, but he was more interested in social contact with their parents or grandparents. He would buttonhole unsuspecting guardians coming to pick up children. Although he was large, somewhat unwieldy, and impulsive, he was sweet and loving. I was often amused by the way he would single-mindedly concentrate on things he was interested in, not to be distracted by trifling obstacles. He had a great sense of humor and would laugh until he cried at things he found absurd.

As time passed, Brent acquired a baby sister. Then he started regular school, although he came to school-age daycare in the summer and afternoons. One year, between our sessions, while his mother was working, I babysat Brent and his sister. While his sister was at kindergarten for the afternoon, I took Brent to the Sidewalk Chalking Drawing event in Franklin. He was very pleased to see my house and meet my mom ("Gran").

Years passed. I saw his mom and sister in Bowling Green when Eve and I went to a movie. I wouldn't have recognized his sister, who had just started high school. We discussed Brent. His mother said he hadn't come along that time, and he'd be disappointed to have missed me.

I saw her in Wal-Mart this afternoon. I couldn't think of her name at first, though I knew she was Brent's mom. I said hello, smiled, and went on my way to pick up things for supper. When I was checking out, I saw her again.

"I didn't know it was you at first," she said.

"How are the kids doing? Though they aren't kids anymore," I commented, realizing Brent had turned 20 this fall. A look passed over her face like a shadow, and I saw the sparkle in her eyes that foretold unshed tears. We walked away from the check-out line.

"Brent's -- gone home," she said, and the tears spilled from her eyes. "It happened last year."

I realized, with some shock, what she meant, and I gave her a hug.

"I had no idea. What happened?" I asked.

There had been a car accident. There was a missing stop sign someone had knocked down where his sister was driving, and an oncoming car struck the door where Brent was sitting. His little sister was having trouble dealing with her grief. I told their mother I'd lost my dad and my sister in a similar way. It can be hard to forgive yourself for surviving something like that, when someone you love has died.

We spoke for a few more minutes, both of us crying. His sister had graduated high school, but she was taking some time before starting college. I told her mother to give her my love.

"I'm thankful I know where he is, and he's safe and happy," his mother said. "Someday, when we're on the other side, this will all seem unimportant. -- I'm usually all right, except when I meet someone else I knew loved him."

Sometimes I wonder about Jordan and Chrissy and Brandon, and other children who were Rocking Horses, Androids, or other fanciful group members nearly 20 years ago. Today, I thought maybe it was better I don't try to track them. I could keep them in my heart forever as the children they were.
Maybe that isn't right. My own kids are adults now, and I love the adult-to-adult relationships I share with them just as much as I loved their growing-up years.

Then I thought of a comment I had made at the CafePress board earlier today, concerning the conference.
"I've decided that when you leave your heart in SF, you're really just taking SF along with you to keep in your heart."

That's the way it is with people you love, whether they're alive or "gone home." You leave your heart behind with them, and yet you take them with you forever. The rest of my life, I'll remember the summer afternoon when I drew Brent's picture while he colored on paper at the table. And I'll remember how he laughed when we played "abierto - cerrado!" I'll remember how he surprised adults by looking at their keys and telling them what kind of car they drove. He's in a better place, along with my little sister and other people I have loved, but he'll always be here in my heart.

The Incredible Journey - Part I - CafePress Connect 2006

2006-10-20T14:34:00.003-05:00

Once upon a time, in the year 2000, there was a woman who wanted to be a writer and an artist. She loved her computer. She liked searching for things, visiting websites, lurking, and making contact with other beings. The inhabitants of cyberspace were, at once, both remote and intimate. This woman stumbled across a shop in a Yahoo club. The products offered by the club were amusing, but she was more intrigued by the shop itself.
So began the adventures of Lorilei in CafePressland.

Lorilei never thought that, just less than six years later, she would be flying across the country to San Francisco because of CafePress.

What can I say? I wish I'd taken a camera. I wish I had been able to spend a week there. I wish we'd all had more time. But that Friday through Monday adventure was a great experience I'll never forget.

In order to relate this story, I think I should first give you a little of the background story. When I started out at CafePress, I had a personal website. Actually, two -- or three. I forget. They were scattered all over AOL, Homestead, and Geocities. On my sites were examples of my personal experiences, photos, art, stories of my life, even my teaching resumé. I promoted my shops a little, but I didn't expect anyone to buy anything of mine. I was interested in making t-shirts or sweatshirts with my own art of them to give as gifts.

In 2001, I was one of many people who felt a need to reach out, after the shock of September 11. I saw other CafePress shopkeepers creating designs to promote patriotic spirit and support organizations like the American Red Cross. So I was inspired to create more designs and shops and take a more active role.

I joined the CafePress messageboard, which I had not really expected to meet my needs. I decided that something was better than nothing. The board was a great place to learn. I lurked and read and asked questions. I began to teach myself rudimentary HTML, using it in my basic stores. (Yes, they supported HTML back then.) I loved the CafePress community.

But the list of stores was something of a joke. You would submit to get on the list, but no updates were made. Then it was scrapped altogether. (Not a tragic event, trust me.) There was the promise of a new one. No one knew when that would be.

By early 2002, I knew there should be a directory. I also knew that the community members I'd been getting to know from the CP Ezboard should be able to talk somewhere that was a little less businesslike. Though I was mostly interested in CafePress, it would be a place where shopkeepers could discuss things not deemed on topic on the board. The Ezboard had reached a point where all new posts were moderated before going live. Sometimes it was as much as three weeks before new comments went public. Even though I discovered how to read them before they were approved (don't ask me how I did it -- heehee), I always felt impatient. I wanted more.

In February, 2002, I opened a Yahoo group and named it GreatGear. I invited a few people, and I put a link to it in my sig on the Ezboard. I planned that the group would be public, and that our links area would become a store directory.

GreatGear started growing. I eventually demolished the rule about staying on topic, at least as far as business went. We needed to be a support and friendship group for each other more than we needed to be a shopping directory. Incidentally, there have been about three different versions of the CP directory since then, and it's still a work in progress. But CafePress.com is becoming a well-known shopping destination on the web.
I started seeing names turn up in the member list like Maheesh Jain (one of the co-founders of CafePress), as well as people like Rodney Blackwell (of I Hate Clowns and T-Shirtcountdown.com), Adam O'Connor (BuyTees.com), and Fricka/Eileen (the T-Shirt Nexus).

Then one day in July, I posted a semi-rant in GreatGear about someone who was promoting her cause on the CP board. Her cause was the acceptance of Anorexia as a normal way of life. She wasn't trying to recruit people to save the environment or become Mennonites, she wanted girls to join her in starving themselves to death. I was so completely disgusted, I had to let off some steam. And I named it, "It's a good thing I don't moderate the Forum...."
Within an hour, I received an email from Heather, a CP employee who took care of the Ezboard.
"Would you like to moderate the Forum? Drop me a line if you're interested."

I replied,
"Hi, Heather.
Wow! Be careful what you wish for ... I'm not sure how qualified I am, but I'd like to give it a try."

So Heather asked if anyone else was interested in being a mod. Several GreatGearians replied, and the Mod Squad was born.

* * *

The years have come and gone. The moderators have, too, to some extent. We moved from Ezboard to Webboard (ugh), and then to Eve/Groupee, where we are now. Heather got married and finally moved away from California, though she still works for CP. The Mod Squad got a new Den Mother, Angela.

I had attended the Louisville Meet & Greet last year, so when I heard about the CP-Connect plans, I really wanted to attend. On top of everything else, I would get to meet Jean (rotemgear) and several other close friends I had never met before.

The stories of my difficulties along the way will have to wait for my memoirs to come out in book form. I had my plane reservations, my luggage, my plastic bags (for the 3 ounce or less containers of shampoo, conditioner, lotion, toothpaste, etc.), and my CP t-shirts and stuff. Yes, of course I took CafePress t-shirts!

I wore the first shirt on the plane, naturally. Flight attendants noticed and complimented it as I was getting off the plane. But my hands were full, so although I thanked them, I didn't give them business cards.

I found the Marin Airporter and rode to Larkspur Landing, where I met Teddy (breast cancer survivor). She is a terrific and funny little lady with red hair and a Greek attitude. She looks like she wears a size 2 on a bad day, whereas I look like I went to college on a football scholarship. (Well, not really, because I'm short. But I digress.) I decided she wouldn't break, so I gave her a hug.

Back over the Golden Gate Bridge. I didn't have as good a view on the way back because of the mesh along the sides of the bridge. When I was riding the shuttle, I had a fantastic view. On the right was the bay, and on the left was the ocean. Clouds that had threatened but not actually rained on us were reaching down to the water's edge in the distance. A break in the clouds spilled a stream of golden light on the surface of the ocean in a ring like a spotlight.

Teddy and I talked like we knew one another, because we do. We had fun locating the Marina Inn, which is on Octavia at Lombard. (Official site at marinainn.com) We had to park her car in a garage a few blocks away. Adam (cp coupon) commandeered our luggage to take upstairs for us. (What a sweetie!)

The GreatGear bunch went to an Italian place a few blocks away known as Caffe Sport. It smelled wonderful, and it was charming -- but I couldn't eat the food. Things like tomato, cheese, basil, peppers, and a number of other goodies make me extremely ill when I eat them. So I slipped across the street to the Cafe Verde for a wonderful roast beef and lettuce on whole wheat sandwich and a 7Up. I rejoined my party when I had finished.

Back inside the restaurant, the "Papa" of the family chided me for not eating. (My plate was bare.) So Jean and I painted the plate with pasta, sauce, and crumbs from a roll. I didn't want them to feel insulted just because I have a wimpy stomach.

Saturday morning. It was beautiful, but we were still tired from the night before. We met in the breakfast/social room on the second floor, then walked to Fort Mason. I wore the second black t-shirt, my Leaving My Heart in San Francisco/GreatGearians at the CafePress Conference shirt. (Repeat that three times, real fast.)

After a speech by co-founders Fred Durham and Maheesh Jain (who secretly do a stand-up routine in their spare time), the sessions commenced. We heard Ryan talk about merchandise (and we saw the famous List). We learned more about implementing the affiliate program. We created descriptions, learned to market, created graphics, brainstormed holidays, and "pimped" our shops. (Don't ask.) For the next two days, it was grueling trying to decide which session to attend, since there were often four going on at once. I asked if I could borrow a Time-Turner, but there were none available.

There was a Happy Hour starting at 6:30 that night, and I felt reluctant to attend. It sounded like a cross between a high school dance and a class reunion. (I hate my class reunions, where most people seem to be racing to see who can get drunk fastest.) I slipped off to walk around and found a KFC at Lombard and Fillmore. **hangs head in embarrassment**
I confess, I was in San Francisco, and I went to KFC for extra crispy fried chicken. It was wonderful.

Happy Hour was happy. And we went to Barney's Gourmet Burgers (also here, I think) later. It was crowded, but Jen (lil goodies) got us in. I think she used a Confundus charm. We sat on a lovely deck in their back yard area. It was fun, but we were pretty chilly by the time we had eaten. Teddy laughingly said the waiters looked horrified when they saw our party being led through.

Sunday was more of the same. We exchanged mini buttons with other shopkeepers and CP folks (who were wearing their spiffy green t-shirts). I pinned mine on the lime green CafePress lanyard I wore around my neck.
After the sessions were finished, I won a prize for getting the Instant Winner mini-button from CP. Kristen Fox (art of foxvox) won a prize for getting the most votes for her mini button.

My button can be seen above.
Next to it is the Team GreatGear hoodie I wore, as well. I will be sleeping in my hoodie quite a bit in chilly weather. It is so nice!

Ah, there is more to tell, young grasshoppers, but I won't be telling it tonight. I'm too tired. Maybe in the morning.

Name Change

2006-07-31T03:52:00.000-05:00

I changed the name of this blog. Its purpose had changed since I first started it. And every time I would look at my blogs and other projects, the name would throw me, since Lorilei's Artist at Work was also the name of my primary CafePress store.

The blog that focuses on my shops is Lorilei's Tees & other artistic endeavors , or Lorilei-Tees for short. But this blog (the one you are currently reading) deals with not only my shop and art stuff, but with -- well, life in general.

Yes, I am a Harry Potter freak. Both books and movies, but books first and foremost.
I am not all work and no play. I love movies and TV. I love classic rock, 60s pop music, classic jazz, and some contemporary music (John Williams is king!). I love animals, especially cats, dogs, bunnies, horses, ducks, geese .... and it would probably be easier for me to list some I do not like. I'm not crazy about mosquitoes, fleas, ticks, chiggers, cockroaches, piranha, and a long list of microscopic organisms. (Since the microbes are neither vegetable nor mineral, I'm lumping them in here.)

I'm not a kid, although sometimes I still feel like one. I think that's why P.L. exists. Sometimes people on the internet think I'm younger than I am, because of some of my interests. Back when I was an AOL subscriber, my profile said: "Marital status - saving myself for Dr. Beckett." The TV show Quantum Leap was one of my all-time favorites. (I kind of had a crush on Sam Beckett, for lack of a better phrase.) It was unbelievable how many guys contacted me because of that line in my profile! It appears that women were not the only big QL fans. I don't think I once had another female contact me because of Sam....

Ah. The old days.

Anyway, I feel out of the loop. I had a computer crash on Thursday. Just my C drive. My son Paul reinstalled Windows XP on my D drive, and I'm back. But my bookmarks and a lot of other things crashed. Gone was the Bejeweled 2 Deluxe game on which I had a high score of over 930,000 points (timed version) , plus a rank of Legendary Engraver (I think?), the Hyperspeed game version, and 151 rounds of the Endless game mode. So although it is fun filling up my top ten scores again, I miss the other stuff. And I've only gotten back up to around 700,000 points again, so far.

My sound is missing. The computer says everything internal is working, but I believe the problem is my ancient speakers, which I've had since 1998. I have a headset, too, but I think Dusty decided it was a chew toy and loved on it a bit too hard. He's an adorable little fella, but I hate when he eats my belongings.

I have tried to upload images to Blogger, but it isn't taking them. Odd -- it worked Saturday night/Sunday morning for a while, but then quit. I thought it was just my computer needing a rest. Maybe I'll see if it still works on Firefox.

Life goes on....

Yay! It worked on Firefox.

Ron and Hermione's Ideas

2006-07-23T23:45:00.000-05:00

I cannot help myself. I am a junkie. I found this HP video on YouTube, and it was love!
What can I say? I've been a R/Hr Shipper since before I even knew what that was.
I love the way the music and lyrics fit into the collage of footage from the first four Harry Potter films.
So now I feel compelled to see "The Swan Princess" as well, to see if it is as charming as this song.

Ire? - ack

2006-07-10T12:27:00.000-05:00

Excuse the terrible pun. But that's the way I feel about it.

Cathie was supposed to be at Fort Bragg for a while. Then she found out she was being sent to Iraq. Cathie is a medic, BTW, not infantry.

I was upset. It's a mom thing. No, it isn't. It's just a -- thing. Human, animal, mother, brother, sister, cousin -- it doesn't matter.

Then we found out she wasn't going. There was a fluke of some kind, where the orders didn't go through and she wouldn't be going. We spent the weekend at a family reunion in the piedmont area of North Carolina. It broke up yesterday, and Mom and I returned to Kentucky while Cathie drove back to Fort Bragg.

I got this today:

"Alright here is the deal. I got orders. This time they are in my hand.
I am going to deploy to Iraq between Oct to Apr 07. I will be going with a special operations unit, so you know that I will be in the very best hands in the Army. .... I also have to get a passport, so mom, dad, or sugar [stepmother], I need to know who I can call to get one sent here asap. I will be taking leave some time in Sep to come and spend time with everyone.

I want you all to know, I am coming back. Lets not look at this as a bad thing. I was in Kosovo before, and I know how to handle myself. There is a possiblility that I can carry my own hand gun with me just in case. I really don't think that it will be a problem. I will have to report to ... TX at some point and deploy from there, so Eve I will be able to visit you too. I don't know what I am doing with any of my stuff, my truck, or Chewy [her cocker spaniel]. So feel free to volunteer any ideas. I will let you know more when I know more.
I love you all!

Love Cathie"
(content slightly edited for privacy/security purposes)

I love her, too. And I know she wants to go.
This just so very much stinks.

KYD merchandise

2006-06-02T14:20:00.000-05:00

Yay! **happy dance**
Even though the UPS tracking online was confusing, at best, I finally received my order of Kentucky Downs merchandise yesterday. I love it!

I ran the t-shirts through the washer and dryer first, so I could take Bobby his to work. I gave away all the magnets and several of the pins. A fellow teller, Dennis, wants a black tee as soon as possible, if not before, and a customer has requested a t-shirt with a chest pocket. Hmm. I don't have the pocket tees, currently, but it's definitely something worth looking into.

Now I get to figure out how best to order these in advance for people I know, and figure out what and how many I'll need to order for Live Racing. Although the event isn't until September, I know I'll need these next 15 weeks or so to plan, design, calculate, and order. There are a lot of variables I haven't even taken into account yet.

I wish I could run the booth, but I'm working as a teller that day. I hope Cathie (my daughter) will be able to work in the booth. She's a great salesperson, anyway.

Happy holiday weekend ~ Memorial Day

2006-05-27T10:02:00.000-05:00

I should be grilling, or swimming. Or back in bed! It's just now 10:00 AM, and I've been up since 6:45! And it's Saturday... but Saturday is kinda like my own personal Thursday. Except for this week, when it's my Wednesday, since I work on Monday. (Are you confused yet?)

Is it as hot out there as it is here? I want to go soak my feet in some cool water. But I don't have a creek at my computer desk, and I work at 5 today, so the cool water thing isn't likely to happen. (But I can at least imagine the sound of water trickling over the craggy face of a waterfall. Ahhhh.)

I feel so out of the loop with things lately. The only person I have chatted with (besides Angela at CP) has been my brother. I have been working on my stores, but I'm still way behind. I can't even "see" where I should be, I'm so far behind.

But I'm getting some Kentucky Downs/Horses-Around stuff some time next week. Yippee! I got the email that it had shipped from Louisville. So, next Tuesday, after they send it north to Ohio, or 78 miles in another direction to Lexington, maybe UPS will ship it the 100 or so mile trip to Bowling Green from its origin in Louisville. Then it will mysteriously cruise around Warren and Simpson counties, looking for my house. But I imagine I'll have it by Friday.

What's in this highly anticipated package? Let's see.
The KYD 2006 ash grey shirt, size XL, for my brother Bobby to wear. It's made to his specifications, somewhat. It has the three race horses and "Kentucky Downs" on the front "pocket" position, and the large logo on the center back.

Then there's a 10-pack each of 2" magnets and buttons (or badges) with the round logo, as well. If these are as good as the ones I have given away at Christmas in the past, I hope to purchase more bulk packages (like 100s) to sell as souvenirs during Live Races in September. I'll also be planning to have t-shirts on hand, of course. I wish I were going to have computer access and a notebook at the booth... but perhaps another time. I will have business cards and flyers.

For myself, I have ordered a KYD 2006 canvas tote bag, which will get lots of use, and a KYD 2006 black tee (ditto!)

I really think these will trigger people's interest. Other employees are already admiring the print-outs on the bulletin board in the mutuels' office. I had brought them for our manager, Ryan, to approve before I could get actual permission to print them.

Even now, I'm wondering if I should have the horses a bit higher, under the "Franklin, Kentucky," because of the space taken by the racing dates text. I'll experiment with that option.
An artist's work is never done.

Lorilei

Whew! What a tiring "day off"

2006-02-27T20:25:00.000-06:00

Work, work, work -- it's never done.

Well, I was "off" today. Which meant I was running errands, looking things up, and not getting nearly enough done. I found out that the Gallery On the Square will be open from 10 AM to 4 PM tomorrow, so I can take Mom to see Lauren Miliken's photography exhibit. Lauren's father and my mother went to high school together, so Mom was very interested in seeing Lauren's work.

Meanwhile, I've been reading and working on a design I'm helping a young man on the CP boards do for "a girl" (in other words, a special girl). I also posted about my "I'd Sooner Kiss the Blarney Stone" design over at the GreatGear News blog, complete with a picture of Cathie wearing the shirt. I need to add another post to my new blog, too.

However, "Medium" comes on in less than half an hour, and I'm definitely watching it. It's a new episode tonight, but I love even the reruns. -- When is this show coming out on DVD?

When I get home tomorrow, I'm taking Mom to the gallery. But for now, I need to get more work done online....

Lorilei

New!

2006-02-22T16:21:00.000-06:00

I've started a new blog for my CafePress stores and designs. This blog (Lorilei's Artist at Work) will still be for my personal stuff, though I'll probably mention the other blog from time to time.

I've also added a link to the GreatGear News Blog, which Kristen (Foxvox) is managing. -- Welcome, affiliates! Come see our work.
:)

More later. Time for work!

Lorilei

First A@W post of 2006

2006-01-31T03:32:00.000-06:00

I'm still here, I promise. I've just been really busy.

We made it to Texas and back. A word of advice -- don't try to sleep in the back "seat" of an extended cab pickup truck. It's hard enough just trying to sit there!

Cathie brought along her new "baby," a pretty chocolate-colored cocker spaniel called Chewie. And she is named aptly. You can ask Eve, who was not happy when Chewie found her toothbrush.

Paul's birthday was the 29th of this month. I can't believe he was that impatient little munchkin who was born in the back seat of a car. Well, maybe I can ... he's still impatient.

Since last time I posted here, I've started a new store for black t-shirts. It's called (drum roll, please) ... "Black T-Shirts by Lorilei. " -- Eh, okay, so you aren't very impressed. But I'll bet you'll like the domain name I got especially for it. It's black-t-shirts.com . Catchy, is it not? I was amazed it was available.

I think the printing for the black t-shirts at CafePress is improving by leaps and bounds. I have 7 black tees now (I think), and I can't wait till we get more black garments.

Here's one of my new black tees, though I haven't ordered it myself, yet. It's called "The Lane Along the Creek." I did the colored ink pointillism drawing of a favorite spot near the East Cedar Street bridge over Drake's Creek. The design also has a mosaic-style enhancement rendered by my computer art program. I'm just having too much fun creating designs.

And here's another one, simply called "Daffodils." I did this specially to use on CafePress, though its inspiration was originally the sunny yellow t-shirt. I drew them from the beautiful golden daffodils in our yard, which were originally started by my great-grandmother long before I was born. I don't know how long the bulbs live, but they have reproduced beautiful offspring for generations by now.

Oh, news, too. My GreatGear friend Kristen has started a blog for us here, GreatGear News, and GreatGearians will be showing off new designs there. "The Lane Along the Creek" is already there, along with designs from Jean, Malcolm, Steve, Diane, John, and others.

Is that the time? I have to get up in just a few hours.
Till later~

Lorilei

Road Trip

2005-12-19T17:52:00.000-06:00

Keeping my fingers crossed... I should be travelling to Dallas with Cathie to pick up Eve by Friday. At least, I hope so. I think I'm in the mood for a little break, and some time with Cathie. I haven't told much about my children, so bear with me while I take a quick tour down Memory Lane. It'll be necessary, in order to relate this piece of history to my life now.

Cathie is my youngest offspring. She has been a trip, herself! Youngest of three children, too young to remember her parent's divorce. She found out very early how powerful a winsome smile and twinkling eyes were, then tried very hard to keep people from figuring out how smart she really was. Admittedly, Eve was a tough act to follow -- she's one of the smartest people I know. So Cathie chose a different path. She's been a real challenge, but like her brother and sister, she has always known she has my heart at all times.

So now Cathie is a sergeant in the US army, a medic, but not yet a doctor or a nurse. She enlisted during her senior year of high school, intent on becoming a doctor, and wanting to join the army. Although her stepmother was against it and hoped I would put a stop to it (her dad mysteriously stepped back and let the women sort things out -- smarter than I thought!), I gave Cathie my support. I had seen her pursue whims and have brief infatuations with ideas before, but this wasn't one of them.

Cathie left for basic training before her eighteenth birthday. She's 25, now. Cathie has been stationed in Germany, Kosovo, and South Korea. She is not in an infantry division, but she's a sharpshooter. She can administer an IV or deliver a baby. She can drive or work on the engine of a Hummer. And she saved someone's life in a tragic situation, although she has never been in battle.

In February of 2003, Cathie was stationed at Fort Campbell, the army base nearest to our home. Her brother was in Fort Hood, Texas, awaiting his tour of duty in South Korea. As is common for deploying military, he was selling, giving away, or storing several belongings, amongst which as a very nice sofa. Cathie decided to drive down and get it, using the trip as an excuse to see him before he left. Her friend Tina offered to accompany her. Cathie didn't tell me, she she knew I couldn't go, and since she didn't plan to be gone long.

In the early hours of Saturday, February 1, Cathie was following an 18-wheel tractor-trailer truck on a highway in Texas, not far from Texarkana. Only an hour or so before the descent and crash of the space shuttle Columbia, there was another tragic crash and loss of life. The truck ran into a bridge over a creek. It veered and then stopped, hanging part-way off the edge of the bridge. Its load, a 5-ton industrial lathe, flew off the truck and struck Cathie's Dodge pick-up truck.

The driver of the large truck was dead, wedged behind the steering wheel, dangling above the creekbed. Cathie remembers hearing the screams of his passenger, a woman who was thrown when the truck went off the road. The woman was taken to the Texarkana hospital, where she laspsed into a coma. She never awoke.

Cathie had tried to respond to the screams, but she couldn't move her leg. Instead, she tended to her friend Tina, who had turned very white and seemed to pass out. Tina had suffered from a mini-stroke and stopped breathing. Cathie kept breathing for her, keeping her alive, while two men in another pick-up truck found them and contacted help.

I can only imagine how Cathie felt, waiting in the hospital for news about Tina. I know the television sets and people were certainly abuzz with the news of the space shuttle. Cathie said she knew Tina's chances didn't look good. When she called me from the hospital, her voice was shaking.

It's been two years and ten months. Cathie found out her ankle was broken, but not till she got back to Fort Campbell and was still in excruciating pain.
Tina had extensive surgery and then surprized everyone by waking up able to speak. She had suffered some brain damage that affected her eyesight and several other functions. She could not read, or name attributes like colors, at that time. I am not sure how she is doing with those abilities now. In addtion to requiring heart surgery, Tina had to have a tear in her liver repaired from the airbag inflation. She is still raising her two little boys, but she will need help and medical attention for the rest of her life.

In 2003, Cathie said that she never wanted to drive again. I understood, but I knew she would. It would be something she'd have to do in order to heal.
She now drives another Dodge pick-up truck. She has driven on that same road again more than once. For the most part, she seems to have faced her demons from that day. Her retelling of the event usually makes her feel stronger, whereas it makes me feel a little shaky.

This trip to pick up Eve in Dallas and come home for Christmas is going to be a pleasant trip, though, where we can talk at our leisure, play CDs on her stereo, and sing Christmas songs. (Yes, we do silly things like that on road trips.)

Maybe soon I can face my demons again, too, and revisit the place where I lost my sister Cathy. I hope to do them both proud.

Lorilei

...and I knew it was going to be...

2005-12-17T14:39:00.000-06:00

Oh, you know the story. In the course of a day, something happens to you. It's kind of bad, but not earth-shaking. Certainly nothing that anyone else wouldn't just shake off so they can get on with life. Yeah. But that event begins to attract more little problems, more disappointments. Suddenly it's like a snowball running down the hill. What happened? How did the situation get out of hand?

One of my favorite books to read with kids, aside from some of Dr. Seuss's classics, is Judith Viorst's Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. Yes, I must confess. I think I was Alexander in another lifetime. Only now my past has caught up to me. The chewing gum of life has stuck itself in my hair, and my double-decker strawberry ice cream cone has hit the floor. It has probably left gooey pink splashes all over my new plain white sneakers, too.

It just seems that one thing after another keeps happening. Not in a day, but cumulatively. It just keeps building. You really wonder when this is going to end.

I don't even want to discuss the CafePress boards. If you've ever been a moderator in a public forum of culturally diverse people with varied opinions, you know it can be a challenge. That's probably enough said.

I own several name domains, mostly in conjunction with my CafePress stores. I know some folks with over 100 of them, but I'm not competing for the honor of domain-name princess. These are just very handy tools for getting around the world wide web.
One of my domains was born of an idea triggered by my annoyance at the neverending supply of unsolicited emails. And what do you call it? What the US government, Monty Python, and the rest of the cyberworld calls it -- spam.

On my site, the subject of this annoyance became not only a proud but fictitious foreign country, where everyone was deposed royalty trying to regain their rightful fortune, but also home of a camp for the underprivilged children. These children, of course, have the time of their young lives, while being trained to love life's greatest pleasures -- composing sad sob-stories in email, and revering credit card information and small greenish pictures of dead presidents. This very tongue-in-cheek site was called Camp Spam. Products bore phrases such as "I already gave all my money to budding scam artists at campspam.com" and "We {heart} George" (Washington). It seemed obvious it was all about unsolicited emails, many of which are specifically targeted to online shopkeepers.

Unfortunately, the people who sent me one email were not amused. They did not think the connection was obvious enough. They were a law firm. They did not contact CafePress, but came straight after me. I received a PDF and certified snail mail (with my name misspelled). This prestigious law firm said their client wanted me to cease and desist. Who was this client? Hormel, makers of SPAM.

I made changes. First, I changed the graphics to camp sp@m. This did not make them happy. I put in disclaimers. These have finally evolved into the following statement: "This store is NOT, never has been, and never will be affiliated with Hormel® or any of its products. "

They are still not happy. The legal department at CafePress has tried to intervene on my behalf, but the H. lawyers can't be bothered long enough to look at my site and see what changes have been made. It sounds like they want the happy, smiling faces of the Sp@manian campers to be against the thing that is their own livelihood. Ah, the irony of people who do not get irony.

All my campers are now hidden online (though I have a Camp shirt I still wear with pride). I even hid the "We {heart} George" shirts for now, though I'm thinking of bringing those back. I could add "We {heart} Abe," " We {heart} Andy," " We {heart} Ulysses," and "We {heart} Benjy" to them for an interesting section.

An example of my old designs:

I have just one design there now. The store section (and its parent basic store) now contain a lot of informational text and that design. I am adding the white tee as well, to give variation. Choice is good. Oh, I'll just make it six shirts. That's a nice number.

The new t-shirt design makes it clear what my designs are about: the CAN-SPAM ACT of 2003. I know this is really what Hormel wanted all along, so people would know what it is for which it stands. Oh -- I mean the US government act, not the little can of meat.
http://www.campspam.com

Ain't freedom wonderful?

Time for me to get ready for work. I'll have to tell about the other weird things another time.

Lorilei

Sneaking back in...

2005-12-09T19:08:00.000-06:00

*gulp*
You caught me. Just when I thought no one would notice... okay, so six months is a bit long to be absent without leave. But I have an alibi, your honor....

Where to begin? This summer and fall (or autumn, for those of you who might think I fell) were crazy. My computer has crashed -- twice, I think? The last time required disc formatting. Several art files bit the dust. I could blame this on my tech support guy Paul, but -- well, why not? He'll never read this. He's my son. My blog would have to be the most boring thing on the face of the earth, to him.

Yes, it's Paul's fault. Because the airport security when he returned to the US from South Korea (US Army) damaged the video card when they dropped it on the floor. And he gave the video card to me. And it damaged my motherboard so it eventually blew up. And Paul hadn't hooked up my Drive A (Ron, my floppy drive) or helped me get a program for Drive E (my CD burner) so I could back up my work. I do have all the diskettes from older work, but practically nothing from the last year or so. But I will survive. I've managed to salvage a few things here and there. Some things I have recreated. And I will make new things, too.

But I spent literally hours working on a row of adorable little people for my Teachers Pets business cards, and they are gone.

I bought two packages of the goofy things, which were on special, but they looked terrible. I thought it was my own fault, and I haven't given them out at all. But in looking at the template online, I see it was not my fault. I wish I could get a reprint of them -- or at least get a copy of my artwork so I could get them done else where. I think what makes me the maddest is that I meant to upload the high resolution version of my little people to CafePress for t-shirts, but it got fried when the motherboard died.
(... so, bye-bye, Miss American Pie....)

T-shirts and Horcruxes and horses -- oh, my

2005-07-18T18:17:00.000-05:00

I have been "away" a remarkably long time. Sorry about that. -- So much going on!

I finally made myself read the last five chapters of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I am still sniffling. But I'm not telling anything about the plot. Except it is both funny and grim, and full of magic, like all of J.K. Rowling's work. Otherwise, no spoilers from me.
I want Book 7! No, maybe I don't. I need to reread this one a few times -- to let it "sink in."

Generally speaking, I am normally a shy, retiring person who would just as soon hole up in my room reading, drawing, and/or computer-ing. If I'm outside the house, it's generally to hang out with animals somewhere, or because it's necessary. After all, the groceries won't get here without help. And for some reason, I don't get a paycheck if I don't go to work. Go figure.

Yet I went to the Grand Opening of the CafePress-Louisville facility the day after Independence Day (July 4), unaccompanied, knowing people there only by association through the computer. We had emailed and sent message board messages, but we had never met in person or even spoken on the phone. What would they be like? Would I be what they were expecting? I doubted it.

I had worked at Kentucky Downs on the Fourth. We closed much later than I thought we would, but the tips were good. When I arrived home, Mom was anxious for me to get on the road. Even though I'd been excited about the trip, I found myself lagging, faltering a bit ... It would be so nice to just stay home. Medium is on tonight.... But I finally grabbed all my stuff, including my trusty AAA Trip Tik, and got on Interstate-65.
I spent the night at a motel near the fairgrounds area. After a good night's sleep, I began my search for the Grand Opening site.

I found the road names and numbers on my map. I made a mental note of the way to return to Churchill Downs, since I hoped to visit it as well. There are so many places I would like to see in Louisville, but first things first. I found Cane Run Road and turned left, heading south, only a short distance from the twisting banks of the Ohio River, Indiana on the other side. I found the Riverport area. Lots of shipping and distribution areas for various companies. I looked for a big CafePress.com sign with the shooting star on it. I traveled the entire length of the road (probably almost a mile), then looped back around to try again.
There was a driveway leading to a large building on my right. No permanent sign, but a banner with the address. Hmmm. I turned in at the driveway. The doorway's trim was CafePress green -- this had to be the place.

Inside, I met Tony and a couple of other CP employees. When I introduced myself, I was surprised by the response.
"You're Lorilei? You're famous!"
Okay, I'm not really famous, but it was good to hear, anyway. It seemed like everyone recognized my name.

I had a tour of the facility before the Grand Opening ceremony. There were speeches by local dignitaries as well as Fred, Maheesh, and Angela from CP. Fred's little boy helped him cut the ribbon.

P.L. and my other kids

2005-06-21T03:12:00.000-05:00

Well, after much instant-messaging and file-sharing, I have gotten P.L. started on her own blog. I'll even get to help contribute to it. Yippee! It's going to be fun.

Meanwhile, daughter Cathie is preparing to head out to Fort Bragg in her new Dodge pick-up. Her half-brother Chris put a trailer hitch on it Monday. She'll be back next weekend, and she'll take more of her belongings over. I'm looking forward to going to visit, once she has an apartment.

And I am still excited about the CafePress Meet & Greet in Louisville. I have a shirt I'm going to wear. P.L. loves it, especially since she is featured on it.

I'll be posting later to let you know how it goes.

Lorilei

Updates ~

2005-06-17T21:50:00.000-05:00

I have gotten so far behind on things. But a lot has been happening recently.

My daughter Cathie is back from South Korea. Unfortunately, she's off to North Carolina and her new post on Tuesday. We have done some interesting things, but not everything I had planned.
I really wanted to take her to the Frist Center for the Visual Arts while she's here. (I'd go just to see Monet.)
If Cathie can't accompany me, I'll go myself. It won't be the first time.

Additionally, I am starting three new online stores, none of which is "live" yet. One is a collaborative site with someone else, but the other two are the offspring of my main store, Lorilei's Artist at Work.
My fulfillment company, CafePress, is also opening a new facility in Louisville, Kentucky -- yay!
**happy dance**
The July 5 grand opening ceremony is also going to be a Meet & Greet, complete with a barbeque cook-out. (I hope there's more than barbeque -- it doesn't get along with my digestive system.)
I have created a t-shirt for the occasion, and I'm hoping to take some stuff along for fun.

Speaking of fun, I also hope I can visit Churchill Downs while I'm in Louisville. I know they are dark on July 5-6, but maybe the museum will be open, at least. Too bad they won't be running that day. I'd love to take some fellow CP-ers to Churchill to see the horses, especially some of the Californians who've never been to Kentucky.

Got to go soon. My nephew is on my computer, and I'm catching up on my mother's at the moment. But I work an earlier shift at Kentucky Downs tomorrow, so I can't stay online all night, even for Bejeweled 2.

Lorilei

M.I.A

2005-05-26T15:45:00.000-05:00

Here I am! The reports of my being missing have been greatly exaggerated.
I did not hire someone to kidnap me. And I'm not getting married.
What with the Preakness over the weekend, and our computers going offline, I have been away for a bit. I'm still playing catch-up.

I think we need to have a little talk with the Linksys tech folks. Paul's and Mom's computers still won't get online.
Paul has had very few problems with this so far, since he's been hanging out with Danny ever since Sunday. (Sorry about that random link, but I am proud that I personally know three people on IMDB. Danny is one of them.)

Paul has taken Danny to house-sit for a friend. When Paul returns, he's going to want his computer online -- or to use mine.
Urgh! I need mine to update my CafePress store, work on the new premium store, moderate my boards, and ... play Bejeweled 2.
Yes, I am addicted to Bejeweled 2. I have the downloaded version on my computer, so I don't even have to be online. I have over 11 million points in the endless game. My top score in the timed game is 600,000+.

Duty calls -- time to plant some roses in the yard. Those shiny little gems will have to wait a little longer.

Lorilei

Little Honda

2005-05-20T02:35:00.000-05:00

It isn't a little motorbike from the 60s, but it is exciting and fun.

Darn, I forgot about the chat. There was a CafePress chat Thursday night. I really did mean to attend. but I simply forgot.
At 7:00 (central time)/5:00 (pacific time), I was driving around in Portland, Tennessee, with my son Paul, in my newly acquired Honda Accord. Needless to say, I have been pretty excited .

First, when I got off work last night, I went to Nashville with Paul and a friend to see the 12:04 AM showing of "Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith." I loved it.
We drove through Portland on our way home to see if the Accord I had taken on a test drive was still parked at the car lot.
So today I went to talk to my credit union about a loan for the car. *gulp*
Not only did the woman at the credit union arrange for me to get the loan, but she even talked to the car salesman and got him to lower the price. Wow -- talk about customer service and satisfaction!

So Paul drove me to Portland to pick up my car. It isn't brand new, but it's really nice. I love driving it. Paul said he thinks it's the nicest car I have ever owned.

Tomorrow I go to my insurance agent, then to the court clerk's office. Then I'll take the paperwork back to my credit union.
Then I go to work at my "other" job, as a parimutuels teller. I punch or key tickets (on a Tote machine) for Thoroughbred horse racing.
The Preakness is this Saturday, too. I have no idea what I'm going to wear. I have been too wrapped up in getting my car to think about that. I'll try to find something suitable while I'm in Bowling Green.

I wonder how Giacomo will do in the Preakness. It was purely luck that Polly and I had a win and show ticket on him in the Kentucky Derby. I so wish I'd had the superfecta (first 4 horses to finish). After all, we had the 10, 12, and 17 -- we just left out 18. How silly of us. :Þ

Well, I'd better get some sleep. Friday will be a long day.
I'm thinking of naming my car. Rhonda the Honda.
Help me, Honda, help, help me Honda....

Okay, time for bed.

Lorilei
<\__~
_// \\

Tuesday Afternoon

2005-05-17T20:19:00.000-05:00

Okay, so it's really evening, now. I just thought some Moody Blues sounded good.

It's been a hectic day. I'm still waiting to hear about the car I have my eye on. It's a champagne-colored Honda sedan. And this didn't really affect my decision, but -- it has a sunroof. Oooooh!

I'm really sharp today, though. I took a nap earlier so I could be on time for a scheduled chat. I arrived in the chat room and made the discovery that I was early. -- By 48 hours. The chat is on Thursday, not Tuesday!

A GreatGear friend has helped me with a design I'm going to try out on the Spreadshirt site. A young lady had emailed me a few days ago to request a personalized black hoodie, so I decided to see what I could do with flocked merchandise. I hope she doesn't mind that it's going to be a pullover hoodie. Next I'll have to learn to create vector images.
*sigh*
Maybe CafePress will get similar products -- using flocking and/or embroidery -- in the near future. I'm really excited that the newest CafePress facility will be located in Kentucky.

Time to go check email and moderate message boards....

Lorilei

New weblog

2005-05-12T16:59:00.000-05:00

Testing, one two three... is this thing on?
I'm new to this, as you can tell. It is an experiment, a companion to my online store.
Here goes the first post, so I can see how it looks.

Lorilei